Journey of an Idol
by jordie78
Summary: A Finding Nemo Fanfic. Nemo first met Gill in the dentist's fishtank, but it is well-known that both are originally from the ocean. We know Nemo's story, but what's Gill's? PG for character death.
1. Carefree Days

Please note, I do not own any characters from Finding Nemo. Those all belong to Disney and Pixar, and all those people. I am not benefiting from this in any way, other than increasing my writing skills and having fun doing so.  
  
But I loved the story, loved the characters, and had an idea for a story of my own, so I hope you enjoy.  
  
Also, this is my first posted story, so I'd really appreciate reviews!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The water-filtered sunlight played across the magnificent reefs as schools of brightly colored fish raced their way to their destinations. Around one particularly jagged section of coral, four young fish were engaged in a fast-paced game of tag. Their distinctive black and white stripes and the yellow patch saddled across their snouts marked them as Moorish Idols, and their tall statures and trailing dorsal fins identified them as youths.  
  
The smallest, Pyram, was keeping an eye out for trouble as she gave a futile attempt to tag Shade, who was undoubtedly the quickest member of the quartet. Shade's name had been derived from the unusually wide black stripes that ran from his dorsal fin to his ventral fin; the thin stripes of white and light yellow flashed as he tauntingly eluded the smaller Idol.  
  
Shade glanced back as Pyram broke off of his trail, obviously looking for someone who was easier to outswim. With a glance, Shade identified Pyram's new target as Jopas, who was at least a quarter larger than his pursuer, which allowed for a pretty humorous tableau; it wasn't a common sight to see a larger fish chased by one who was so much smaller.  
  
Shade darted off to look for a new hiding spot before Pyram returned. He had turned down several possibilities before a distant voice shouted, "Gotcha!" Shade had barely enough time to race to the next coral formation before Jopas rounded the corner in front of him.  
  
Shade flipped around and made for the first alcove he saw in hopes that Jopas would give up and go after someone else.  
  
"You'll never make it, Shade!"  
  
As Jopas steadily gained on the quick-moving Idol, Shade barreled into the alcove. This action was immediately followed by a double yelp as Jopas slowed to approach the grotto at a more reasonable pace.  
  
Jopas's short wait soon paid off as Shade swam out, looking a little dazed and accompanied by the final, equally dazed member of the group.  
  
Gill blinked and shook his head as he emerged. Jopas suppressed a laugh, and allowed his two friends a few seconds to recover their senses.  
  
Immediately, Shade bolted around the formation, determined not to get tagged. Gill had been hidden in the grotto during the last tag, so he hadn't heard who was now "it", but he had a pretty good idea.  
  
Gill's quick glance at Jopas confirmed his suspicions; the older Idol gave a slow, predatory grin that was very reminiscent of a hungry shark. Gill dove straight down as Jopas charged, forcing him to turn and pick up speed again. He managed to lead Jopas on a fairly decent chase around several coral formations before Pyram's voice cut through the water.  
  
"Hey! Hey, Jopas! Gill!"  
  
Jopas broke off the chase as both he and Gill wearily made their way back to where Pyram and Shade were floating, attention fixed upon something that was now out of sight.  
  
"What's wrong?" Jopas asked.  
  
"There's a diver over there." Shade answered.  
  
Jopas snorted. "So what? There's always divers around here. It's like, some big thrill for them to come here. C'mon, let's get back to our game."  
  
Jopas spun and slapped the nearby Shade with his fin before racing off. "Tag!"  
  
"Hey! Not fair!" Despite his protests, Shade rose to the challenge and took off after Jopas.  
  
Gill and Pyram stayed put, Gill to catch is breath before joining the game again, and Pyram to watch the diver.  
  
"Gill, I don't like this."  
  
Gill chuckled as he watched Jopas dodge Shade once again, using his own speed against him. "What, Jopas? Don't worry about it, Shade hasn't been tagged in ages. It's good for him."  
  
Pyram sighed and rolled her eyes. Her friends all had their talents, and their weaknesses: Jopas was an incredible leader, but could be dangerously impulsive, and Shade was blindingly quick, but he needs a good dose of common sense. Pyram herself was somewhat of an authority figure, looking out for the others and keeping them safe, sometimes unreasonably so. And Gill? Gill was smart and creative, but sometimes he just missed the obvious details in favor of the obscure.  
  
This was one of those times.  
  
"The diver, Gill, not the game."  
  
"Ah. The diver." Gill drifted around to study the diver again. He was considerably closer, but that wasn't a problem. Gill had never had a bad encounter with a diver, and he knew no one who had. "Jopas isn't worried about it, and neither am I. We've seen plenty of divers, and none have ever proven dangerous before. Come on, quit qorrying and get back in the game!"  
  
Gill's relaxed demeanor and reassuring smile convinced Pyram to end her watchful vigil over the approaching diver, and with a flick of her tail, she rejoined the game, Gill close behind. 


	2. Danger on the Reefs

Once again, I do not own anything from Finding Nemo.  
  
In addition, the diver I created is very unprofessional. Bad diver. If you ever get the chance to go swimming in the reefs, do NOT do what he does, even to a minor extent. The reefs are beautiful, but fragile.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Within seconds, the diver was forgotten as the young Idols raced each other through the elaborate reefs until all were completely exhausted. Panting and laughing, they turned towards the reefs that served their small school as home, and began the lengthy swim back.  
  
As the foursome rounded a coral bed, they stopped dead. There, facing them, was the diver they had sighted earlier, net in hand. There was a heartbeat of silence, the Jopas rose to his "fearless leader" position once again.  
  
"Grotto, on the left. When I say go." Jopas hissed.  
  
Gill glanced over to the left. Jopas was right, there was a grotto near the top of the coral formation to the left. The ceiling would be fragile, but the entrance was small enough to hold off the net-wielding diver.  
  
The diver was casually sightseeing, occasionally pausing to study the various creatures, before his masked gaze locked onto four individual Moorish Idols.  
  
"Now!"  
  
As one, the four friends turned and raced towards the narrow grotto opening. Shade slipped through first, Jopas next, then Gill and Pyram in close succession.  
  
"Hey, Jopas."  
  
Exhausted, Jopas turned to fix Shade in his questioning gaze. "What?"  
  
"You never did say 'go'."  
  
Shade received a light, irritated slap for his observation. Pyram ignored both. Instead, she drifted towards the single entryway to see what the diver was doing. As the reefs came into view, Pyram gasped and moaned a simple "We're in trouble."  
  
"What do you."  
  
BAM!  
  
Before Gill could finish, a tremor raced through the grotto, dislodging several sharp pieces of coral and sending them raining down upon the trapped youngsters. Accompanied by Jopas's authoritive "Get out of here!" they bolted towards the lone entryway as another impact crippled the grotto roof even further.  
  
Unfortunately, the diver had prepared for this eventuality as he innocently tapped on the coral, unaware of the damage he was causing, and had placed the mouth of the net neatly up around the entryway, leaving his targets with two choices: either get buried by the collapsing roof, or rush blindly out of the grotto.  
  
This particular school chose the latter option.  
  
Gill never saw the net before he hit it. Sure, he had seen first Shade, then Jopas seemingly stop in midswim, but it hadn't really registered until he slammed into it himself. Gasping from shock and effort, he began to back up, trying to disentangle snout and fins, but the diver was taking no chances of escape. Before any of his captives could even attempt escape, he snapped the net down towards the ocean floor, using the movement to effectively pin them against the mesh of the net.  
  
Gill was still trying to pull his fins free of the netting, but the net's movement was making this task next to impossible to accomplish. Eventually, the net ceased its erratic movement and paused long enough for Gill to work himself free. "Is everyone alright?"  
  
Shade gave a hesitant "Yeah, think so." Pyram was already helping him pull his dorsal fin free, and Jopas was still trying to loosen the netting around his tail, but he didn't look like he needed help doing it.  
  
Once he knew his friends were okay, Gill desperately searched for a way out, but the only possible route, through the net's mouth, was now clipped shut; they were trapped! 


	3. New World, New Rules

Former disclaimers still stand.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Gill gasped as he reentered the clear salt water, trying to dispel the feeling of suffocation he had experienced only a few seconds before. Disoriented, he sank a few inches, trying to take stock of his surroundings and figure out where he was.  
  
First off, the floor wasn't composed of the usual sand; brightly colored pebbles completely blanketed the ground. And the floor didn't extend for miles all around, either. Gill swam over to where the pebbles just seemed to stop, gently bumping his snout up against the glass border. This was the only wall that seemed to open to another area, as all sides of the tank, it had to be a tank, were flanked by light blue walls.  
  
The view outside the tank revealed dozens of tanks identical to the one that now held Gill and his friends, each containing a separate species of marine life. Gill backed away from the wall, fighting down an odd mix of horror, anxiety, and revulsion. He had heard tales of fish being captured and reduced to little more than a decorative object, but those tales all had the flavor of being too bizarre to be real, but just detailed enough to make one wonder is maybe, just maybe, they were.  
  
"We aren't staying here, you know. We're going back home."  
  
Gill turned to face Jopas. The school's tall leader had made several ridiculous decisions and actions, including one that ended up with them getting chased by an irate lionfish, but he had just given voice to Gill's own thoughts, and he couldn't agree with him more.  
  
Before he could speak, however, a gravelly, calculating voice took advantage of the opportunity.  
  
"Escape, eh? Not likely; I've tried it once or twice."  
  
The speaker had drifted out from his resting place in the rear corner, a corner that was partially hidden by a large plastic plant. He, too, was a Moorish Idol, but his dorsal fin was about half the length of Pyram's, shortened by time. He carried himself with the air of an individual who had been through more in his life than most will ever experience, and who had never questioned whether he would survive each trial.  
  
It was Jopas who broke the stunned silence caused by the older fish's arrival and the implication that there was no way out.  
  
"Then you didn't try hard enough! There's always a way out, just because you didn't find it doesn't mean."  
  
"If there's always a way out, then how is it that you were caught and brought here instead of swimming free?"  
  
Jopas instantly fell silent, his verbal momentum and pride cut by the casually spoken question. Pyram took the opportunity to speak before Jopas could do something that they would all regret, like telling off their tough tankmate.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Name's Atlas."  
  
"Were you."  
  
"Trapped? No." Atlas interrupted, finally turning his gaze from the sullen Jopas to study Pyram. "I was raised at another shop before I was brought here."  
  
Turning back to Jopas, he continued, "You think I didn't try hard enough? We have a wall on all four sides, glass floor underneath, and a wire ceiling above us. There isn't a hole or opening large enough for any of us to fit through, including her," he added, pointing at little Pyram, "and even if you made it out, you would never make it overland to the nearest drain."  
  
That last bit of information seemed to pique Shade's interest. "Why aim for a drain?"  
  
Atlas sighed and began to swim to the other end of the tank as he answered, "I've been told that all drains eventually lead to the ocean."  
  
Gill hadn't known that. Quite frankly, he didn't know anything about tank life.  
  
Atlas was halfway across the tank before Gill raced over to fall into place by his side.  
  
"So, all drains lead to the ocean. What else do we need to know?"  
  
"Give it up, kid. No fish here has ever escaped."  
  
With a flick of his tail, Gill shot out ahead of Atlas and spun around to face him head-on. He had Atlas' attention, if only grudgingly given, and he wasn't about to waste it. "I don't care what you say about our chances for escape. We're getting out eventually. Maybe not now, maybe not here, but somewhere, someday, we are going home. When that day comes, I'd really like to know what to do, and what to avoid doing, and you seem to know about tank life. If you want to help me figure that out, that's great, I appreciate it. If not, I'll figure it out for myself."  
  
Atlas didn't seem impressed, but he was quiet for a moment before simple asking, "What's your name, kid?"  
  
"Gill", he answered, just as simply.  
  
Atlas nodded, almost imperceptibly, to himself, and a slow smile etched its way across his lips as he said, "You may have the right attitude, Gill. Follow me." 


	4. Hard Choices

Former note about former disclaimers still stands.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
For the next week, Gill spent every free minute he had figuring out the details of the tank and living in it, often with Atlas' guidance. Anything, any little detail, was diligently passed on to Jopas and Shade. Pyram also received the information, but it seemed that she only listened to her friends just to keep them happy. It became a sort of routine: Gill or one of the others would excitedly relate any fact that they had learned that day, and Pyram would patiently hear them out, then recite some variation of, "That's great, Gill" with false enthusiasm, then drift off to be by herself. Shade figured that she missed the ocean, and the information they recited only reminded her just how far away from home she was.  
  
Gill supposed it was a good explanation, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was something more. She'd talk about it eventually, but until then, there was that disturbing feeling of division to deal with. For now, though, Gill was pretty excited. Atlas had just explained how the filter worked, and it seemed to be the weakest part of the tank. He was sure that it could be the key to their escape; they only had to puzzle it out and brainstorm, and they'd be heading home in no time at all. Pyram had missed the lesson, once again, and Gill knew that she couldn't help but get excited about this.  
  
He spotted Pyram floating near the front wall, silently observing the many tanks surrounding them, and he swam over to hover at her side. "Hey, Pyram."  
  
Pyram sighed and hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. "Gill," she started, "look around you. What do you see?" She turned and looked around their tank. Gill turned as well, a little confused by her abstract question. "You mean the tank?"  
  
"Yes, the tank."  
  
Gill frowned as he answered. "You know how I see the tank; I see it the same way that you, Jopas, and Shade see it."  
  
Her voice startled him when she spoke next. She sounded like she was about to cry. "Please, Gill, just answer. It's important."  
  
Gill quietly thought about his answer before obliging; he didn't want to upset her further. "I see a box. A box that we are expected to live the rest of our lives in while humans control everything around us, including how much food we're allowed, and when we get it. They turn the lights on and off at all times of the day and night, and the tanks they trap us in limit the space we can swim in. We have to get out, and we will. We just need time."  
  
To his surprise, Pyram seemed even closer to tears than before. "I thought that was how you saw it."  
  
"What do you mean, Pyram?"  
  
She sniffled, and looked around, "When we first came, that's how I saw it, too. But think about it, Gill! We're safe! The water's clean; with water like this, there can't be many diseases. There's nothing here that wants to hurt us or kill us, with the possible exception of Atlas. . ."  
  
"He's tough, but he isn't mean."  
  
". . .we aren't being chased by lionfish. . ."  
  
"That was an accident."  
  
". . .and we aren't dodging octopuses."  
  
"And so was that. And I think its 'octopi'."  
  
Pyram spun angrily to face her friend. "Are you even listening to me, Gill? I don't think I want to go back!"  
  
Her words hit Gill like a slap in the face. "You don't want to go back?" he finally managed to ask.  
  
"No, Gill. I don't." Pyram's voice was quiet, gentle, but she never broke eye contact, never wavered in the slightest. She meant what she said.  
  
Gill slowly turned away from her and started the swim back to Jopas and Shade. He didn't want to hurt her feelings like this, and he didn't want to be rude, but he didn't know what to say. Pyram was practically his little sister, and Jopas and Shade his brothers, the only 'family' he had. It wasn't right that their separation should be in this was, three choosing freedom, one submitting to captivity. Gill was so lost in his thoughts that he only vaguely realized that Pyram was saying something.  
  
"I'm sorry that it had to be this way, Gill."  
  
Gill slowed and looked back, taking the chance to look, to really look, at his close friend. She was so pretty, floating there, elegant fins attesting to her excellent swimming ability and grace, but for some reason that protective, sisterly aura about her was gone, replaced by the determined, independent spirit that he saw so often in Jopas and Shade, and himself. She'd changed, and he couldn't help wondering when that had happened, and why he hadn't noticed before now. She was no longer the little 'tag-a-long' that they were so used to having around, and she had made her choice, just as Gill himself had done, and he could accept that.  
  
A sad smile played across his lips as he simply gave his reply, and his acceptance.  
  
"So am I, my friend, so am I." 


	5. Wherever Life May Lead You

Disclaimers still in effect.  
  
And I'd really like to say thank you so much for the kind reviews, they really mean a lot to me!  
  
Alright. Chapter 5.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Yet another week had passed, and neither Gill nor the others had come up with so much as a glimmer of an escape plan. Gill had become pretty much obsessed, but he could tell that Jopas and Shade were getting discouraged. Pyram had explained her decision to both, and though their initial reactions had been similar to his own, it was obvious that they were definitely coming around to her way of thinking.  
  
It didn't help that their chances for escape seemed about nil.  
  
For now, though, Gill wasn't going to let that bother him. He was engaged in observing the store happenings and the other tanks. Perhaps if he studied a tank from the outside, he'd hit on an idea. Unlikely, but it couldn't hurt to try.  
  
Though the store was open, there had been only one customer, and he wasn't interested in tropical fish; the only sale had been a filter. That was just fine with Gill, who didn't particularly like being stared at, or treated as a mere possession. Or tapping. Tapping was the worst, especially kids. It was easy to avoid the staring, but when each tap on the glass rattles the scales like it does, it's hard to ignore.  
  
The gentle chime of the doorway bells managed to catch Gill's attention, if only for an instant. What really caught his attention came a few minutes later, when the view outside of the tank was eclipsed by a store employee and the customer.  
  
Gill gave an irritated sigh and headed towards the back of the tank, all too used to this kind of thing. The employee ran through the usual spiel about Idols, which Gill had never cared to listen to, and then they moved off to another tank, allowing Gill to return to the front of the tank to watch.  
  
The young employee was trying to catch a fish in one of the other tanks, and having very little success. The fish that she was trying to catch was some sort of blowfish; when the net came near, he had inflated, making himself far too big for her little net. It was a good idea, coming up with a way to fend off the net. It would give Gill something to work on for the next few days. She eventually managed to catch him by eliminating the middleman, namely, the net, and resorting to using the plastic baggie as a scoop. Gill watched with mild interest as the baggie was tied, marked, and set aside.  
  
Gill's interest greatly intensified as the customer turned to point at his own tank. He had seen the process too many times during the last two weeks to not recognize it for what it was.  
  
"Atlas! We've got a problem!"  
  
At Gill's shout, Atlas shot out from behind his plant to take stock of the situation. It soon became very clear that, while Gill had just come up with the idea of planning a defense, Atlas already had one.  
  
"To me, kids! School!" he yelled, determined to make himself heard.  
  
Gill was already there, but Pyram, Jopas, and Shade came barreling over, unaware of the exact danger, but unwilling to find out what it was on their own. Schooling was a very effective way to escape a predator in the ocean; the Idols' stripes and speed made it difficult to target an individual when they moved in tightly packed groups.  
  
The strategy seemed to work, at least for an instant, then either the employee figured out which fish she wanted, or she decided that she didn't care which one she caught. It took some maneuvering on her part, but she managed to lower her net directly in the middle of the small school. Most of them managed to dodge the net, but one, Shade, hadn't turned fast enough. As the net started to rise towards the surface, Atlas brought the school around and taught them a trick that Gill would remember for the rest of his life, starting with the unusual command, "Get in the net! Now!"  
  
Gill shot a questioning look at Atlas, only to be answered with a "Do it!". A little confused, but determined to help, Gill followed Atlas' order, slipping through the ever-narrowing gap between net and air to slide into place next to Shade. Jopas also managed to dive into the net, but neither Atlas nor Pyram got the opportunity; the surface was too close. "Now what?" Shade asked. Gill shrugged; he didn't know.  
  
"Down! Swim down!"  
  
Gill pushed against the bottom of the net with all of his strength, and Shade did the same beside him. He could feel the net just beginning to give way when he was temporarily pushed aside by Jopas, who hadn't had room to help. With Jopas' considerable strength and size added to their task, the net really began to bend and advance towards the tank floor.  
  
The employee relaxed her grip and gave the net a shake, knocking all three fish out and away from the net as she sarcastically remarked, "Sure, swim into the net when I don't want you to."  
  
Meanwhile, Atlas was trying to get the youths to school again. Shade was shaken, but he managed to follow Jopas back. Gill had been knocked into the glass when the net shook him out, and he was just heading over to rejoin the school when the girl decided to try again. Gill's vision filled with the green mesh racing towards him, and he tried to backpedal, only to bump into the glass he had hit earlier. The net quickly surrounded him, and, with a soft, painfully real click, sealed itself against the glass, locking Gill inside.  
  
"Gill!"  
  
"Swim, Gill, you can do this!"  
  
"Just get it away from the wall, Gill, we can help!"  
  
Fueled by his friends' shouts, Gill threw himself against the net and began to swim, straining to pull the net away from the wall, but it was already rising. Despite his protesting muscles, Gill redoubled his efforts, finally managing to pull in an inch away from the glass.  
  
Too late. The last thing Gill heard before being pulled from the water was Pyram's hysterical "Gill! No!", followed by Atlas' resigned, "Too late, kid. Good luck." 


	6. Bloat

Just assume that from here on out, all disclaimers are in effect.  
  
Also, just for clarification later in this chapter. A porcupine fish is not a blowfish (a.k.a. puffer fish), but it is closely related.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Gill fought the mesh netting with every ounce of strength he had, not even caring about the looming suffocation brought ever closer by his struggles. Why would he? This girl was taking him further away from all he ever knew, all he ever cared about: his friends. Just the thought of losing them made him fight harder; he already lost his ocean home, did he have to lose them, too?  
  
It wasn't long before Gill's gasping no longer had any effect; his gills were dry, useless in the open air. He was almost grateful when the net inverted, allowing him to splash into the water-filled baggie below. Almost grateful. He could actually breathe now, but his right side stung from his impact with the water, and he was being carried to the cashier's counter, his friends no longer in sight.  
  
The water in the baggie sloshed, tossing Gill around as he was placed on top of the counter. He twisted around, trying to catch one last glimpse of his school.  
  
Instead, he found himself face-to-face with a large, spiky blowfish.  
  
"Hey, how're you doing?"  
  
Gill's last hopes shattered. It was impossible to see through the neighboring bag and its boxy occupant to the tanks beyond. He scowled at the blowfish's friendly greeting and turned away, wondering how someone could be so seemingly unaffected by what was going on.  
  
"Don't want to talk, huh?"  
  
Good. The blowfish seemed to understand Gill's not-too-subtle hint.  
  
"I understand. But this was bound to happen sooner or later."  
  
Or not. Without turning around, Gill gave the fish a blunt reminder. "I don't feel like talking about it."  
  
Behind him, the blowfish started to expand, annoyed at the Idol's dismissive behavior, but managed to catch himself before he completely lost his cool. "Are you always this pleasant, or is it just the special circumstances?"  
  
Gill's scowl deepened, but he kept his silence. He shouldn't have snapped at the blowfish, it wasn't his fault Gill had been caught, but he wasn't making this any easier.  
  
"I mean, I figure if we're gonna be stuck in a tank together, we should at least try to be civil, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Angelfish?"  
  
That turned Gill around. "I'm not an angelfish."  
  
The blowfish smirked, pleased to have finally gotten a response. "Could've fooled me. If you're not an angelfish, then what are you?"  
  
What was with this fish? "Never seen a Moorish Idol before?"  
  
"Nope. Tanks are separated by species, you should know that. Which probably means that you've. . ."  
  
Gill cut in before his new tankmate could finish. "I've seen a blowfish before."  
  
It was the blowfish's turn to frown. "Really? Where?"  
  
Despite his aloof manner, Gill had been having fun, bantering back and forth like this. It had reminded him of something, but he hadn't been able to place it until the blowfish had asked that last question. Then it hit him. It reminded him of joking with Shade, and he had last seen blowfish when he was free in the ocean.  
  
The last of Gill's good spirits crashed, the blowfish could hear that in his voice when he answered. "A long ways from here." Then Gill spun and fixed his attention on the cashier once more. The blowfish gave a defeated sigh, all too aware that he had said the wrong thing. He gave a half- hearted attempt to restart the conversation, but he really didn't expect a response. "I'm Bloat, by the way."  
  
The Idol didn't turn around, and Bloat had given up on an answer by the time he finally received one. "Gill."  
  
Bloat gave a smug smile. "Pleased to meet you, Gill Angelfish."  
  
"And I, you, Bloat Porcupine Fish." For the first time in a long time, Gill felt a tiny flicker of hope. As his baggie was lifted off the counter, he couldn't help feeling that perhaps this wasn't going to be quite as intolerable as he had originally feared. 


	7. Starfish, Tangs, and French Shrimp

Okay, from here on out, bear with me. I don't know French, and I'm not too familiar with dental terminology. =D  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Close to the water's surface, the baggie tilted, causing Gill to slide towards the hole that had been ripped in it. He landed in the water below, muttering about humans and their insane ways of transporting fish. A moment later, another cascade of water came raining down from above, and Bloat appeared, accompanied by a loud splash.  
  
"Well, that was fun."  
  
"Yeah, well, let's hope we don't have to do it again," Gill said as he looked around, taking in his impressive surroundings. It was still a tank, but it was a little more reminiscent of the reefs than the last tank he knew. Blue pebbles still covered the floor, but fake plants sprouted everywhere. Several tank ornaments offered places to rest away from prying eyes; Gill saw a plastic skull that seemed promising. Rising up from the middle of the tank was its most prominent feature: a large, bubbling volcano.  
  
Gill had been ready to go investigate the plastic skull when Bloat smacked the top of his dorsal to get his attention. Annoyed, Gill glanced back at Bloat, but the blowfish's attention was locked onto something else entirely. Following his gaze, Gill managed to find the source of interest.  
  
A little yellow fish was rushing from bubble to rising bubble, popping each one as he excitedly chanted a single word over and over again: "Bubbles!"  
  
"What kind of fish is that?" Bloat asked.  
  
"Yellow tang," Gill immediately answered.  
  
"Are they all like this?"  
  
Gill wasn't the only one to answer "No." Startled, Gill spun to face the individual who had spoken with him, and came face-to-face with a starfish. Or, at least as face-to-face as one could get when the starfish in question was twisted around from her position on the glass.  
  
"That's Bubbles," the starfish added in her warm voice, as if the tang's name explained everything.  
  
Actually, it did explain a lot about the fish. He was nuts.  
  
The friendly starfish continued her introductions. "My name is Peach, and there's a cleaner shrimp named Jacques around here somewhere."  
  
Gill appreciated her hospitality, but he really just wanted to be alone right now. Bloat, however, seemed to feel otherwise.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Peach. I'm Bloat, and that's Gill over there," he said, pointing over towards the quiet Idol, who seemed to be examining the surface of the water.  
  
"Peach, does this tank have a lid?"  
  
Peach was a little caught off-guard by Gill's abrupt question. "Well, no. . . Doctor Sherman doesn't like having the tank look so enclosed. . ." Peach's explanation fell short as Gill smiled and whispered, "Excellent."  
  
He studied the set-up of the tank for a few more seconds before he became uncomfortably aware of the way Peach and Bloat were staring at him, as if he were as crazy as the tang that was now curiously swimming over. He had an idea, but he needed time and space to think.  
  
Gill distractedly excused himself for his departure and made his way over to the skull, trying to ignore the stares and the way the conversation seemed to restart with him as the whispered topic.  
  
"Poor dear, he seems to really have a lot on his mind."  
  
"Yeah, he's been moody like that ever since I met him."  
  
"And where are you from?"  
  
"Bob's Fish Mart. You've heard of it?"  
  
Glad that the conversation seemed to have turned away from him, Gill poked his head into the back entrance of the skull and stopped.  
  
"Bonjour." This must be Jacques.  
  
"I really hope you speak English, Jacques." So much for using the skull as a base of operations.  
  
The tiny little cleaner shrimp looked a little miffed. "Of course I do," he said, his heavy accent making the words a little difficult to understand, "I've just finished cleaning here, so have a nice day, Monsieur. . ." Jacques paused, clearly waiting for Gill to introduce himself.  
  
"Gill. Just Gill. No 'monsieur' anything."  
  
"Gill, yes. I shall be going now." With that, Jacques departed, leaving Gill quite alone in the hollow skull, which is all he wanted in the first place. His idea seemed impossible, and he would need the others' help to pull it off, but he thought it could really work. He just needed to verify a few details.  
  
Gill spent most of the evening brooding in his new skull, emerging only to examine and experiment with the dial on the volcano, or to study the interior of Doctor Sherman's waiting and examination rooms, occasionally asking questions, but mostly keeping to himself.  
  
The other fish were quite confused by his standoffish behavior, which was understandable. But they didn't have long to wait; Gill would explain everything in the morning. 


	8. The Tank Gang

The sun broke over the choppy waters of Sydney Harbor, gently awakening its residents and tinting Gill's white stripes a vibrant red as he watched. It was the perfect day for an escape, and the nearby sea seemed to verify that.  
  
"You're an early riser," Gill looked up, easily finding the source of the voice.  
  
"Didn't wake you, did I?" he asked the bleary-eyed starfish.  
  
Peach yawned as she replied, "Not at all. What are you doing up so early?"  
  
"Just wanted to make final adjustments to my plan, that's all." Gill answered cryptically.  
  
"I see. And how, exactly, does it involve a sunrise?" Peach gently teased.  
  
"Just thinkin' how the next time we see it, we'll be out there."  
  
Peach was fully awake now. "Gill, you're not talking about an escape plan, are you?"  
  
"Got it in one, Peach." He watched as she opened her mouth, then closed it, unable to find the words to voice her thoughts. When she finally did speak, it was obvious that she was skeptical of his goal, and, apparently, his sanity.  
  
"Gill," she said, speaking slowly, as if she was afraid he wouldn't understand, "just getting to the ocean alone is going to be dangerous, and any plan with that destination is going to need more than one night's preparation to work. Besides, even if we did manage to get there alive, we don't know the first thing we'd need to do to survive!"  
  
"I do," Gill quickly interrupted, determined to make her understand. She had to understand that his plan would work! If she dismissed it, the others would follow her lead and his plan would never take flight. "I was raised there, and I'm going back, one way or another."  
  
"I understand, Gill, I really do, and I think it's a noble idea, it's just. . ." Peach trailed off, discouraged from continuing by Gill's challenging glare. The motherly starfish turned to look out at the open sea, trying to figure out how to continue.  
  
Gill's eyes narrowed. "It's just what?" he prompted.  
  
Peach sighed. "I'd have to hear your plan."  
  
At least she'd hear him out. Gill's grim features broke into a confident smile. "You will, Peach, just as soon as everyone wakes up." Peach still looked hesitant, and Gill gave a low chuckle as he continued, "C'mon, Peach, quit worrying and give me a chance."  
  
Similar words had worked once with Pyram, on a day that now seemed decades past, and those words, spoken so confidently, also worked with Peach; the starfish allowed him to head back to his plastic skull to wait out the dawn.  
  
Gill reflected on that for a moment as he swam, remembering how that day in the reefs had turned out to be so devastating. Things were different now; he had everything, every aspect of this plan, under control.  
  
He hoped.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"So, let me get this straight. You want me to lift the back edge of the volcano."  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Then, you're gonna wedge yourself into the top of it."  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Once you're in, Jacques here is gonna turn the volcano on to full power."  
  
"Yep."  
  
"And you fully expect the volcano to shoot you through the air and land you in the bathroom sink."  
  
"Of course."  
  
"And, from the sink, you just plan to flip your way into the toilet, right?"  
  
"Easy as krill."  
  
There was a beat of silence.  
  
"Why are we aiming for the toilet, again?"  
  
Gill sighed, answering this question for the second time. "Because all drains lead to the ocean, and the toilet is the only drain around here big enough for all of us."  
  
"I guess that makes sense." Bloat admitted, but it was obvious that he was still a little skeptical. "And when are we gonna do this?"  
  
The fish turned to watch as the office door opened and Doctor Sherman walked in, cheerfully greeting his receptionist and rounding the corner to head towards the back rooms.  
  
Gill's voice called the fish back to the matter at fin. "We have to act before the first patient arrives. It will be too busy after that, and we can't get caught." He had them, he knew he did! Bloat was starting to get excited, as was Bubbles. Jacques. . . it was hard to tell with Jacques, but the little shrimp hadn't protested at all yet. That just left Peach.  
  
"Gill, how do you know that Mount Wannahockaloogie. . ."  
  
Gill frowned, "Mount what?"  
  
"Wannahockaloogie. The volcano. How do you know it can throw us that far?"  
  
In truth, that was the one thing about this plan that Gill was uncertain of. And now, every fish was looking to him for the answer. If one of them got hurt because he was wrong, it would be his fault, but he had to try. There was only one thing he could do. Well, two things.  
  
Bluff it and volunteer.  
  
"Don't worry about that, I've got it all figured out. To prove it, I'll even go first. So, who's with me?"  
  
Bloat answered first, "Sure, why not?"  
  
"I'll do it!" Bubbles joined in.  
  
Gill turned to Jacques and Peach. "How about you, Jacques?"  
  
"Oui. I'll do my best!"  
  
"And you, Peach? Couldn't hurt to try."  
  
The starfish sighed and submitted. "I suppose so."  
  
That was everybody. "Well then, Gang," Gill spun and pointed at the volcano. "To the top of Mount Wannahockaloogie!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Sorry about the long wait. Got caught up in a difficult chapter, and I wanted to make sure it would work out before I updated.  
  
Anyways, I know the first escape idea is a little unoriginal, but hear me out! The Tank Gang had to have learned this maneuver sometime before the events in the movie, otherwise Gill would've had to stop and explain everybody's tasks before he could help Nemo. Instead, everybody went directly to their assigned position and waited for his cue. I'll work it all out in the later chapters, but this is my line of thinking here.  
  
I'm working on more. . . unusual. . . escape attempts for later. I gotta hand it to Gill; these are not easy to come up with =/ 


	9. Freedom's Price

Once again, bear with me. I still don't know dental terminology, and I have never actually seen a dentist's drill (not that I'm complaining). So, enjoy!  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Gill swam in innocent circles around the summit of the volcano as Bloat calmly rifled through the pebbles near its base. He cast a furtive glare into the examination room.  
  
"What's taking him so long?"  
  
Peach pulled herself away from the wall just enough to speak, "He needs to set out his equipment. He'll be done in a minute." Then, more to the casually passing Bubbles than anyone else, she added, "Looks like a drilling. First thing in the morning, too. . ."  
  
Bubbles winced sympathetically. "That won't be fun."  
  
Gill tuned them out. Instead he occupied himself by watching Dr. Sherman work. He was lying out all manner of bizarre instruments, none of which Gill could identify.  
  
He wasn't sure he wanted to know.  
  
The last thing the dentist picked up was a strange little implement that spun and whirred when he pressed a button on it. Apparently satisfied that it would work, Dr. Sherman set it down on the tray and walked out.  
  
Gill broke off his repetitive circling and announced, "Alright, Gang, he's gone, but we have to act fast! Is everyone in position?"  
  
As he spoke, the volcano's peak slanted towards the bathroom just the tiniest bit. Apparently, Bloat's answer was affirmative. Down by the dial, Jacques waved to him. That was a "yes", as well.  
  
"Excellent. Let's do this!"  
  
Gill took his place, wedged in the mouth of the volcano. It was uncomfortable, but he didn't plan on being here long. "Now, Bloat!"  
  
Mount Wannahockaloogie shuddered and creaked as Bloat inflated beneath its base, and Gill's view shifted from ceiling tiles to bathroom door.  
  
"That okay?"  
  
Gill was aimed directly at his goal, the bathroom sink. "Keep it here, Bloat. Jacques, whenever you're ready!"  
  
"Faisons-le!" Jacques agreed as he began to spin the dial.  
  
Gill had just enough time to take a deep breath before the whirlwind of bubbles launched him up and out of the aquarium. Ecstatic, Gill closed his eyes, simply enjoying the feeling of being beyond the tank and on the way to freedom, despite the fact that he was flying through the air, wind whistling past him. He was so preoccupied with the moment that it took him a few seconds to realize that he was lower than he should be.  
  
A lot lower, and dropping fast. Unable to do anything else, he grimaced and braced himself for impact; there was no way he was going to make it to the sink.  
  
Gill slammed into the edge of the instrument table with a wet slap, his speed forcing him to slide towards the middle, sending dental supplies flying as he did. The dry metal tray stuck to the scales on his left side as he slid, forcibly bringing him to a stop amid the clattering instruments.  
  
Gill had protectively shut his eyes on impact, a decision that ultimately saved his sight. One of the scalars bounced when he hit it, arching through the air and bringing the needle-sharp tip of its spiral down just above Gill's right eye.  
  
The metal tip pierced the scales there, and Gill's instinctive recoil, coupled with an indistinct shout, didn't help. The instrument struck and bounced off the hard, bony ridge over the Idol's eye, causing it to graze over the vital part of his eye and lance its way down towards his ventral fin as gravity settled it, carving out a fairly shallow, but painfully prominent groove on the stricken Idol's right side.  
  
Gill gasped and forced himself to keep still as the last of the tools settled on and around him. It wasn't long before the only sounds were Gill's own ragged panting and the horrified shouts from the Tank Gang, safe in the crystal clear confines of the aquarium.  
  
In the relative silence that followed, Gill was vaguely aware of his new friends' concerned shouts, and of a heavy weight resting across his entire side, pinning him to the tray. He slowly, warily, opened his eyes, ignoring the pain that accompanied the action, and fought down a brief moment of panic when he realized that he could see nothing but blurred darkness out of his right eye. After a moment, his vision cleared and sharpened, revealing a very close-up view of a drill. Too close-up; the drill was holding him down. Gill pushed at the drill with the little strength his pectoral fin could muster as he tried to squirm his way out from under it.  
  
No good. The drill merely shifted forward, freeing his tail, but prodding his snout with its sharp tip. Gill had to come up with a plan, and fast! He was weakening with every passing second; if he didn't get out from under this drill now, it would be too late.  
  
And if he couldn't get to water after that. . .  
  
Gill gritted his teeth and pushed the thought from his mind. Better not to think about it.  
  
With a grunt, Gill thrashed at the drill, using his tail, fins, and sheer muscle strength to shove the heavy piece of machinery away. His first attempt didn't have much of a result.  
  
His second attempt did, though it wasn't what the trapped Idol had in mind.  
  
Gill's tail managed to find the power switch located on the handle of the drill, and his powerful swimming muscles drove it in as he fought, causing the dreaded instrument to take on a life of its own. Its whirring hum seemed to fill the world, and it gave a nearly inaudible sputter as it threaded Gill's vulnerable right fin into the dangerous gap between spinning drill and still handle.  
  
Gill hissed in agony as his fin was mercilessly ripped apart by the unyielding drill. The pain reflex kicked in, and all of the muscles on his right side tensed, forcibly lifting Gill's head and tail off the tray as they did. Unfortunately, the drill tip hadn't moved from its previous position; the rotating tip bit into Gill's snout, scratching out yet another laceration.  
  
The drill jittered and bounced as it spun, and its movement eventually carried it off of and away from Gill, releasing his mangled fin with a jarring snap. Almost immediately, the drill was lifted out of sight, falling silent as it rose, and he was just able to discern the outline of the dentist's outstretched hand before the pain and oxygen deprivation combined to override his stubborn resistance, and he blacked out. 


	10. Nobody's Perfect

Alrighty. Sorry about not updating for a while. . . I'm trying to keep one chapter ahead of what I've posted, just so I make sure it'll work out, and the last one was a little tricky. Fun, but tricky. So, read, please review, and all that jazz.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Gill woke as the cool, sweet salt water surged over his gills once more. As his consciousness returned, he found himself in a rather unusual situation. There was a human hand cupped around him, keeping him upright in the water.  
  
As if he needed the help.  
  
Gill glared at his captor as he shook himself free. Dr Sherman pulled his hand from the water and shook his head as he watched the stubborn fish regain his bearings. "I don't know how you got out, little fella, but it looks like you're gonna be alright," he trailed off as Gill took an unexpected left turn, straight into a plant, "Eventually."  
  
Gill never noticed the dentist's departure, he was too busy spitting plastic leaves out of his mouth and trying to figure out what in the Barrier Reef just happened.  
  
It should have been the work of a moment to shrug off the plastic tendrils, but it took Gill a full fifteen seconds to disentangle himself. With one last thrust of his tail, he freed himself from the plant, listing dangerously to the left as he did so. Gill scowled, irritated with the weakness his body was displaying. He couldn't have hurt himself too bad. . .  
  
Yet a sudden glimpse of his reflection stopped him in his tracks. In stunned silence, Gill let himself drift towards the glass, unaware of how the other fish hung back from him, unsure of what to say or do.  
  
When he was close enough to the glass, Gill flared his fins out to stop his forward momentum. Once again, his left fin gave an odd tug at his body, but this time, Gill knew what was wrong.  
  
His right fin had been torn away, leaving him with nothing more than a withered frame. Where his left fin would catch and push against the water, his shredded right fin would now uselessly let water stream right through it. Gill barely gave a second glance to the scars that now decorated his face and side; his ravaged fin held his whole attention.  
  
A subtle cough pulled his attention back to his surroundings. Gill reluctantly tore himself away from his reflection to face his tankmates.  
  
"Gill?" Bubbles hesitantly started.  
  
The bigger fish cut him off. "I'm fine. Just a miscalculation."  
  
Bloat snorted in disbelief, eyes on Gill's injured fin. "Just a miscalculation, eh? You just crash-landed on a tray of sharp objects, had a fight with a drill, which you lost, and now you just took a nose dive into a plant," Gill's features darkened; he'd hoped they hadn't seen that. "If that's 'just a miscalculation', I'd hate to see what qualifies as a total disaster in your eyes."  
  
Gill stiffened. "It wasn't a total disaster," he said defensively.  
  
"Could've fooled me." Bloat retorted, succeeding in his goal of getting Gill riled up again. It had worked at the Pet Store, and right now a verbal sparring contest would get the Idol's mind off of. . .other things.  
  
Peach agreed with the basic idea, but she recognized the warning signs before Bloat did. She stepped in before the blowfish could say something to really put Gill on edge. "Gill, are you sure you're alright? I mean, those scratches look pretty painful, and that drill did a number on your fin. . ."  
  
"I said I'm fine!" Gill snapped. It came out sharper than he meant it to, but he ignored the others' stares and took advantage of the sudden silence to swim off to his skull. Or at least try to swim to his skull; his strokes were uncertain, and he kept veering off to the left. It took him a few strokes to hit on a pattern that seemed to work: using his left fin normally and beating double-time with his right. As he left, he could hear Jacques' sarcastic "That went well," followed by muted whispers.  
  
He felt a little guilty about snapping at Peach like he had. She was just concerned about him, but he just didn't want to hear it. Not "I told you so". Not "I know it wouldn't work".  
  
Not "Poor Gill".  
  
Definitely not "Poor Gill".  
  
If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was pity. Peach had danced that thin line between concern and pity when she had asked if he was okay. Granted, if there was one creature that had earned pity, it was certainly Gill. In the last few weeks he'd lost his ocean home, his lifelong friends, his tank-smart mentor, and the use of his fin, not to mention his dignity. He just didn't want pity complicating things even more than they already were.  
  
Gill sighed as he slipped into the skull; he'd apologize to Peach later. Right now, he was where he wanted to be. Alone.  
  
Alone, and waiting for nightfall.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A jolt of pain snapped Gill out of his light sleep. For a terrible moment, he thought he was back on the instrument tray, but the interior of the plastic skull and the fact that he could still breathe quickly dispelled that thought.  
  
Mount Wannahockaloogie's blinking lights illuminated the otherwise dark and still tank. Gill cautiously searched the many shadows before silently emerging from his makeshift home. All of the others were sleeping, which gave Gill the opportunity to do what he loathed to do in their presence.  
  
Practice.  
  
The Idol floated up to the open space above the tank's plastic decor, not wanting a repeat of the plant incident. With one last look around, he started to swim, trying different techniques and styles as he worked out the best way to utilize his painful pectoral fin. It wasn't easy; until he relearned to balance himself, he was terribly top-heavy.  
  
It only took three fifteen-minute intervals with plenty of rests in between to completely exhaust himself, but it had been worth the effort. In that time, he had traded the frantic double-time beat in favor of one more reminiscent of his previous stroke, and he managed to turn and swim at a slow pace. He'd work on speed later; precision was key for now.  
  
Gill sank back to his skull, panting and still struggling with his movements, but much improved. He fell into a dreamless sleep almost immediately, the raw scar on his face twisted by a slight, self-satisfied smile.  
  
With Gill now out of sight, Peach turned back to glass, the same smile lighting her features, as proud of his accomplishments as he was. 


	11. An Unlikely Comrade

A loud thump and a slight tremor racing through the water caused Gill to groan. He'd been up too late last night, and had worked himself too hard, just as he had done every night for the past week.  
  
Gill tried to get back to sleep, but he could hear excited voices on the other end of the tank. He sighed and gave up; he was awake and wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon. Besides, he didn't recognize one of the voices, and he'd have to meet the new individual sooner or later. Might as well be now.  
  
Gill backed out of the skill and into the blinding sunlight. Grumpily, he scowled and blinked a few times, trying to get used to it before he headed off. He stretched his ruined fin in an attempt to dispel the ever-present ache, then slowly swam over to the group huddled in the corner.  
  
"Bloat."  
  
"Well, nice to meet 'cha, Bloat! Always liked blowfish, independent little fish."  
  
As Bloat chuckled, Gill stopped, suddenly convinced that he was still dreaming.  
  
After all, pelicans don't exactly stop by to chat with captive aquarium fish. Eat them, maybe. But not chat.  
  
Oblivious to Gill's arrival, the pelican looked around the office. "So where's our favorite dentist today?"  
  
Bubbles actually sounded disappointed when he answered. "It's Sunday, Nigel. You know the dentist doesn't work on Sunday."  
  
The pelican's excited demeanor deflated. "Ah. I forgot what day it was." His spirits perked as he spotted the striped fish. "And who might you be?"  
  
Gill was slightly nervous at being addressed by a giant bird, but he stubbornly refused to show it. "Gill."  
  
Nigel beamed. "Pleasure to meet 'cha, Gill!" The Idol nodded in mutual agreement as Nigel continued. "Thought I'd drop by to watch a few patients, but it looks like I'm outta luck. Which may be a good thing. . ." he admitted.  
  
Peach laughed. "After last time, I'd say you might be right."  
  
Bloat started to grin, curious. "Why, what happened last time?"  
  
Nigel chuckled and leaned forward conspiratorially. Gill instinctively backed up, unwilling to be so close to a piscivore, not after the things he's seen and heard. As he moved, it occurred to him that Nigel was probably not a threat; Peach and Bubbles seemed to know and trust him, and Jacques was just now heading over at top cleaner-shrimp speed. Even if the pelican did have ill intentions, this motley school was probably not high on his "to eat" list: Bloat's spikes, Jacques' tiny size, and Peach's bizarre shape would make it illogical to go after them. Even Bubbles was an unlikely target, what with the poisonous barb near the base of his tail, and Gill's own unique shape and size would make him difficult for a pelican to swallow. He'd probably get stuck in the bird's narrow throat, and. . .  
  
Gill involuntarily shuddered at the though and tried to think of something else, anything else, to keep his mind off of old worries, but Nigel had already noticed his reaction.  
  
The good-natured pelican uncomfortably withdrew his head with a shuffle of his feathers and a glance at the otherwise stoic Idol. "I'm not gonna hurt 'cha, mate," he tried to explain, "I'll admit, I do eat fish, but I only take what I need outta the ocean."  
  
Before Gill could reply, Jacques cleared his throat and stepped in, "I believe that Gill is actually from the ocean, mon ami."  
  
Gill, determined to defuse the situation, shot a glare at Jacques and turned to the Gang's abashed feathered friend. "I understand. I can't say that I agree, but I understand."  
  
The pelican accepted the verbal olive branch without hesitation. "Of course, mate. Still sorry I startled you, though."  
  
Gill was just a little defensive when he replied, "You didn't startle me, so don't worry about it."  
  
Nigel chuckled a little at that and tapped his beak. "Yes, now what was I talking about?"  
  
"What happened the last time you came here." Bloat helpfully supplied.  
  
Nigel brightened considerably. "Ah, yes! Well, you see, the dentist generally doesn't like birds in his office, something about sanitation. I don't quite get it, 'cause I'm just watchin'. He's the one goin' around and stickin' his hands in peoples' mouths. But anyway, that's not the point. Dr. Sherman gets. . . edgy when I show up. Last time, he all but threw me out the window, and he's been keepin' the window shut recently. Hard to see when you're flyin', really. . ."  
  
Gill couldn't help the small smile Nigel's tirade brought to his lips. He was beginning to see what made this particular bird a friend of the Tank Gang. It was hard not to like him, piscivore or no.  
  
It didn't hurt that the other fish didn't seem to know just how dangerous Nigel could be. After all, they hadn't grown up listening to warnings and horror stories of fish snatched from above by hungry pelicans.  
  
Nigel stayed for a bit of idle talk and bantering before he said his farewells and took off. Despite himself, Gill still couldn't help feeling just a little bit regretful. Just a little. He was more relieved than regretful.  
  
Then again, if Nigel really was as trustworthy and reliable a friend as the Tank Gang believed, then he could use that to his advantage. In fact, he had a glimmer of an escape plan already. . .  
  
Gill absently shook his head, lost in his thoughts. No, he wouldn't try another escape plan just yet. He wouldn't make that mistake again, rushing his plans. Not after what happened last time. He'd live with those results for the rest of his life.  
  
That was another factor; he'd never be able to perform the tasks in his own plan, not until his scars stopped burning and he learned how to utilize his bad fin.  
  
A sudden sound snapped Gill out of his dark musings. The Idol turned to face the source and frowned thoughtfully. "Peach?" he called.  
  
"Yes?" came the starfish's muffled reply.  
  
"I thought the dentist didn't come in on Sunday."  
  
"He doesn't."  
  
"Then why's he here?" 


	12. New Recruits

Hey, did everyone hear the great news? Finding Nemo, out on DVD and Video November 2nd! Yay! I'll be able to watch it without having to admit to the theater people that I've seen it. . .well. . .  
  
Let's leave it at "a lot". They know me there.  
  
Anyways, sorry I'm slowing down on the updates; college does that to people. I'm really trying to keep up to date, but sometimes I get slightly stuck or busy. I'll keep posting till it's finished, so bear with me. Oh, and a note about reviews; I don't mind constructive criticism. Really. And I love the reviews I've gotten! Thank you soooo much!! =D  
  
Well then! On with the story!  
  
~~~~~~  
  
"What do you mean, he's here?"  
  
"I mean he just walked through the door."  
  
The dentist in question had indeed just entered the office, whistling and lugging a plastic bag with him. He spotted his Moorish Idol drifting in the water near the glass and smiled. "Hey, there, little fella!" He held up the bag for Gill to see, though he didn't realize that the fish understood. "I got these yesterday, just didn't get around to bringin' 'em in."  
  
Gill only got a quick glimpse of the new arrivals before Dr. Sherman lifted them out of sight. He didn't have long to wait, however. One by one, the three fish plopped into the water as the Tank Gang watched.  
  
The first seemed to be a black-and-white humbug that looked around frantically before spotting her reflection in the glass. Visibly relaxed, she calmly swam over to it, seemingly oblivious to the Tank Gang.  
  
The second fish was a vibrant purple and yellow. Royal gamma, Gill suspected. He'd seen a few of them. This one was the complete opposite of the humbug; he'd seemed pretty calm before he realized just what had happened. Then, with a whimper, he cringed and sank, hovering an inch off the pebbled floor.  
  
The final arrival seemed pretty cool about all that was happening. Must be part of the goldfish nature, Gill supposed. He checked to make sure the humbug and the gamma were okay, then cheerfully greeted Bubbles as the tang caved in to curiosity and swam over.  
  
Gill stayed back as the others rushed forward to introduce themselves; even Peach was working her way over. He watched the introductions for a moment, torn between meeting the new fish and going off by himself again.  
  
With a sigh, the Idol gave in and swam forward. Might as well get it over with.  
  
Unfortunately, his approach didn't have quite the effect he had expected. Instead of cheerfully stating their names and trying to strike up a conversation, as they had with all the other fish, they acted as if they didn't know what to do. The humbug turned away towards her reflection, nervously chewing her lower lip; the gamma suddenly found the tank floor fascinating. Even the goldfish cleared his throat, occupying his attention elsewhere after a quick glance at Gill.  
  
Or, more specifically, at his mangled features.  
  
Gill stopped, his fin hovering uncharacteristically close to his side. He hadn't given it much thought, but the Tank Gang had been there throughout his injury and recovery, and hadn't really treated him any different since; before now, he'd never had a reason to feel self-conscious. Now, however, with three fish uncomfortable in the presence of a crippled Idol, the feeling was unavoidable.  
  
The goldfish recovered first. "'Ello. . .sir. Name's Chuckles." Gill loftily glared at the outstretched fin; rather than offering his right fin for a shake, Chuckles had deliberately switched to his left in an effort to make it easier for Gill. He wasn't sure he appreciated the gesture.  
  
Somewhat resentfully, Gill returned the favor. "Gill."  
  
Apparently feeling that tensions were now past, the bubbly humbug swam over. Flashing what appeared to be a surprisingly genuine smile, she said, "Hi, Gill! My name's Deb!" Before Gill could react, she gently confiscated his left fin and tugged him over to the glass. Gesturing somewhere off towards the dentist's chair, she added, "And this is Flo. She can be a bit chatty, but she's actually pretty okay."  
  
Gill blinked a few times, trying to figure out why Deb had named her reflection. Surely she didn't believe that it was truly another fish. . .  
  
Yet it seemed that she did. Within seconds, she was talking with her striped duplicate. A confused Gill tried to follow the one-sided conversation for a minute, but was quickly lost. He gave up and decided to check on the final newcomer, who had struck up a conversation with Jacques.  
  
Jacques noticed him first. Taking it upon himself to formally introduce the two, he straightened and, after clearing his throat, began. "Monsieur Gill, this would be monsieur Gurgle. . ."  
  
"What did I tell you about the whole 'monsieur' thing?" Gill interrupted.  
  
"Monsieur Gurgle, this is Gill. Resident plan-maker."  
  
Gurgle looked like he was about to grin at the shrimp's sudden abandonment of propriety, but he quickly covered it. "Plans, huh? What kind of plans?"  
  
"Escape plans. I'm trying to get back to the ocean," Gill clarified, hoping that the gamma would be enthused about it. It'd be nice if someone actually believed that it could happen; Peach said she did, but Gill doubted it.  
  
Gurgle, however, was not interested. Cringing a little, he nervously asked, "Escape plans? But. . .don't you get. . .dirty, doing that? And the ocean, it's not exactly the cleanest place around, you know?"  
  
Gill frowned, not quite following the gamma's logic. "So? At least we'd be free. You do realize we aren't exactly swimming in purified water right now, right?"  
  
Gurgle's eyes widened. Apparently he either thought or had hoped they were. His bubble burst, he quickly excused himself and sought out Peach once again, apparently intent on verifying Gill's comment.  
  
Gill rolled his eyes and watched him go. Casting a quick smirk over at Jacques, he said, "A cleaner shrimp and a germophobic gamma. You two should get along just fine." As Jacques laughed, Gill swam off to be alone once more.  
  
However, with so many fish in the tank, that was going to be hard to do, as Gill quickly found out. He had barely gone three strokes before Chuckles fell in beside him.  
  
The goldfish wasted no time. "So, I hope you don't mind me being so direct. . ."  
  
"Do I have a choice?" Gill questioned.  
  
Chuckled ignored his irritated tone and continued on, cheerful as ever. "No, not really. Anyways, do you mind me askin' what happened to your fin?"  
  
Gill stopped in his tracks; he hadn't expected that to be the first question. He glanced at the orange tag-a-long, trying to determine whether it was an honest question or a cruel trick. "Subtle, aren't we?"  
  
Unperturbed, Chuckles continued, "Well, if you don't want to talk 'bout it, that's fine, but I'm gonna find out one way or another, and I'd rather the story come from you."  
  
Gill grunted acknowledgement and resumed swimming, this time leading Chuckles over to the glass wall facing the exam room. "Fine. If you really wanna know, then it was an escape attempt gone wrong, all right? I used the volcano to shoot out of the tank and across the room. I was aiming for the toilet, but I landed on dental tools on that ray over there. One of the tools was a drill, that's what got my fin. That was about a week ago. Happy now?"  
  
Chuckles stared thoughtfully at the tool-laden tray. "Where you trying to get to?"  
  
"Ocean."  
  
"Sounds good." Chuckles' eyes traveled over Gill's fin and scars again, "So, that's it, huh? Bad escape attempt?"  
  
"Yeah. Bad escape attempt."  
  
"Shame, really."  
  
"What?" Confused, Gill looked over at the seemingly disappointed goldfish, ready to fend off another pity attack.  
  
Mischievously, Chuckles explained. "I dunno. Thought you lost a fight with Bloat or something. I know that's what Deb and Gurgle thought; they'd been talking about how they hoped they didn't get stuck with a fighter."  
  
Relieved, Gill smiled. That, at least, explained their peculiar behavior. For a moment, he felt like he was back with Shade; good-naturedly, he frowned. "Wait a minute, what do you mean, 'lost a fight'? I can take Bloat."  
  
"Uh-huh. Sure. I'd love to see you up against that overgrown sea urchin." With that, Chuckles started to swim off.  
  
It only took a split-second before Gill gave in to pride and took off after the impish goldfish.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Well, there you go.  
  
And yes, I do know that "germophobic" is not the proper term for the condition. It was just the first one that popped into my mind. =D 


	13. A Plan of Goldfish

Alrighty. I finally had time to write and update, so here it is! However, I still only have two more escape plans ready; I never knew how hard it was to get out of a fish tank if you happen to be a fish. =/  
  
Oh well. I haven't given up yet. =D  
  
Enjoy!  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
"This is pathetic. Just pathetic!"  
  
Distractedly, Gill looked back at Chuckles. The goldfish was staring at several groups of fish, fins set stubbornly at his sides.  
  
Gill studied the scene for a moment, then admitted, "I don't see what's so pathetic about it."  
  
With an exaggerated sweep of his fin, Chuckles indicated everything around him. "Them! Look at 'em! It's been a week and we're still divided into groups. Haven't you noticed? Apart from you and me, Peach, Jacques, and Bubbles hang out together, you argue with Bloat when you're not bouncing ideas off me or off brooding by yourself, and Deb and Gurgle have formed their own little group. This isn't what tankhood is all about!"  
  
"What did you expect them to do? Immediately merge into one big, happy school? They're with the fish they know, leave 'em be. It's better this way." Expecting Chuckles to take the hint and drop the subject, he swam on.  
  
Unfortunately for Gill, Chuckles had a streak of determination that rivaled Gill's own. Chuckles slowed, muttering thoughtfully, "One big, happy school. . .that ain't a bad idea, Gill. Thanks!"  
  
"Thanks for what?" a confused and irritated Gill asked as his friend took off.  
  
"You'll see!" came the faint reply.  
  
Gill rolled his eyes and took the opportunity to "go off and brood to himself" as Chuckles so eloquently put it. The fish sure had a flair for the dramatic.  
  
Now, about that new idea. . .  
  
* * * * *  
  
"No, it's ridiculous."  
  
"Oh, come on. It'll be fun!"  
  
"I'm not doing it."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Gill twisted around to glare at his stubborn friend. "Why not? Because you want me to play Master of Ceremonies in a bizarre initiation ritual. That's a social thing, and I don't do those."  
  
"Oh, give me a break. So tell me, how. . ." Chuckles found himself questioning Gill's tail as the Idol swam away. He remedied the situation by shooting out in front of his larger friend. "How did you manage to convince Peach and them to try your first escape plan, eh?"  
  
Gill frowned. "Pulled some strings. That's not social, if that's what you're getting at."  
  
"Sure it is! You must be one persuasive speaker, my friend. Had you come to me with that plan, I would've told you that you were nuts!"  
  
"Yeah, I know you would've." Gill's indignation caused Chuckles to laugh.  
  
"Ah, come on, Gill. Even you've got to admit that the 'plant-slingshot' idea was a little far-fetched."  
  
Gill shrugged. "Could've worked."  
  
"Yeah, maybe. If the plants had any rebound, which they don't. Anyway, we're off topic. Will you help me or not."  
  
Gill slowed and thought about it. Sort of. In truth, he was simply enjoying the goldfish's edgy impatience. Nice bit of revenge for being called a 'raving lunatic' for his last plan.  
  
Eventually, Gill sighed. "Alright. I'll do it," he grudgingly agreed. "But you're doing the preparation and planning. I've got my own plans to work out."  
  
Chuckles laughed. "Of course. I'll leave you to your planning. Just meet me at the base of Wannahockaloogie as the sunsets, alright?" With that, the exuberant fish took off; determined to set his plan in motion by nightfall.  
  
Gill sighed once more and decided to go get some sleep. After all, it sounded like it was going to be a long night.  
  
* * * * *  
  
As soon as the sun tapped the horizon, Gill worked his way over to the volcano's plastic base. As was to be expected, Chuckles was already there, and so was Bloat.  
  
"You know what you've got to say?"  
  
"Yep. No problem."  
  
"You got your plant hat?"  
  
"Right here. So when are we starting?"  
  
"As soon as everyone gets here. And there's our fearless leader now!"  
  
"Don't push it, goldy." Gill pushed the last few plant tendrils out of his way and glanced around as he approached. "Where's everyone else? And. . .what it that?"  
  
Chuckles bit his lip to keep from laughing at Gill's alarm. "It's a ceremonial hat. A symbol. See, it's a ring, no separations, all inter- connected. That's how we should be."  
  
Alarm gave way to a threatening glare. "That's great. I'm not wearing one."  
  
"Tough. Yours is over by the volcano." Jovially, Chuckles backed up and immediately continued as Gill's threatening gaze intensified; he'd apparently come to the conclusion that it was best to stop teasing the larger fish before Gill decided to bite back. "Give me a break. I already had to twist your fin just to get you this far; I wouldn't dare try to make you wear a hat. You barely even have a speaking part."  
  
"Wise."  
  
" I thought so, too. Hey Gurgle! Bubbles!"  
  
Gill turned to greet his two tankmates, but stopped short as soon as he saw them. Chuckles couldn't miss Gill's questioning glance. "The ring wouldn't fit on his head."  
  
Sure enough, Gurgle was wearing the leafy ring around his midsection, where purple scales met yellow. "Ah. I see. And Bubbles' shell?"  
  
"We didn't have any more rings."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Lighten up. Anyway, Peach is already on the dial, and Deb and Jacques are with her, so we're gonna get started." The goldfish excitedly rubbed his fins in anticipation and turned to Gill. "Gill, as one of the tank leaders, you and Peach will take the challenge first. Once both of you are done, Deb will go through, then Jacques. After that, it'll be me, Bloat, Gurgle, and Bubbles, in that order. Got it so far?"  
  
Gill grunted in acknowledgment. "It's not complicated. What's the task?  
  
Chuckles offered one of his aggravatingly impish grins as he replied. "Oh, it's pretty straightforward. All you have to do is swim through the Ring of Fire."  
  
Had Chuckles been expecting gasps and horrified whispers, he was going to be pretty disappointed. Gill looked nonplussed, Bubbles clapped his fins excitedly, and Gurgle and Bloat gave a simultaneous "What?".  
  
Chuckles' grin faded just the tiniest bit. "The Ring of Fire. You know, when the volcano's on full blast and all the bubbles are shooting out the top? We gotta swim through that."  
  
Bubbles was ecstatic, and nobody else seemed to mind their task, although several cast worried glances Gill's way, as if they were concerned he couldn't do it. Gill ignored them. Fortunately, Bloat seemed to have other concerns.  
  
"Is Peach aware of this?"  
  
Chuckles shrugged. "Asked her if it was okay, and she said that she'd manage."  
  
"Well, she'd know better'n anybody." Bloat said with a smile. At the others' acknowledging nods, he slapped his hat on and started off towards the volcano. "Let's get started.  
  
As Bubbles and Gurgle turned to follow, Gill still managed to shoot Chuckles a particular look. Chuckles recognized it instantly; everyone in the tank had come to know Gill's opinion on social occasions.  
  
"Come on. It'll be fun!"  
  
A roll of the eyes was his only response.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Okay. I know that this isn't my best chapter, but I had been planning to put this one and the next one together as one chapter. It was way too long, so that didn't work, and this one became the introduction. You can definitely expect a longer chapter next time. =D  
  
Until then, read, review, etc, and I'm gonna go and try to figure out how to get out of that fish tank. . . 


	14. Initiation

Sorry about the long wait, everybody. I had a brutal combination of mild writer's block and college midterms. Woohoo. . .  
  
Anyways, I'm back to writing again, so here goes!  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Gill and Peach, fish of the striped and starred forms. You have been summoned to the top of Mount Wannahockaloogie to. . . to. . . wait a minute, this one's different. What was it again?"  
  
Even Peach cracked a smile at the answering sigh. "To take your place. . ."  
  
Bloat could take it from there. "To take your place as co-leaders of. . . the Tank Gang!" At Bloat's enthusiastic proclamation, the volcano burst to life, sending cascades of bubbles racing each other to the water's surface. "Jacques!"  
  
"Oui?"  
  
"Not yet! You're supposed to wait!"  
  
"Sorry!"  
  
As the bubbles died out, Bloat readjusted his hat, cast a warning glance at Gill, who was struggling not to laugh, and went on. "But first, you must swim through. . . the Ring of Fire!"  
  
The volcano erupted yet again, but this time, no one voiced a protest. Bloat backed away, giving the two leaders ample room to carry out their task.  
  
Peach looked over at Gill, a trace of nervousness apparent in her voice as she said, "You first, Gill."  
  
Gill nodded and approached the bubble column. This wouldn't be hard; he could even see Bloat and Chuckles on the other side. After taking a deep breath, he darted forward into the wall of bubbles. There was a brief moment when the air bubbles were roaring past him and he couldn't breathe too well, but it was over as soon as it began.  
  
Taking a moment to catch his breath, Gill calmly turned to watch Peach.  
  
She was already having a difficult time of it. She'd wrapped her arms as far around the volcano's lip as possible, and was preparing to push herself as far as she could.  
  
Chuckles' voice cut through the tense silence. "C'mon, Peach, you can do this."  
  
Gill twisted around to glare at his co-conspirator. "She already said she could do it. She doesn't need any help."  
  
"I was just. . ."  
  
"Watch. That's all you have to do."  
  
With his attention back on Peach, he could see that she had gathered up the rest of her nerve. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled herself out over the crater. The rushing bubbles caught her flat body and tore her anchoring arms away from the stable plastic of the volcano, leaving her hovering in the space between volcano peak and water's surface. The starfish froze for a second, then forced her upper half down as far as possible. Now the bubbles hit her at an angle, gently propelling her across the column and towards victory.  
  
Once Peach was free of the bubbles, she pulled herself out of her glide and slowly drifted down to the security of the tank floor. Chuckles and Bloat raced down to congratulate Peach, and Gill slowly followed. "Excellent, Peach."  
  
Peach offered her friends a weary smile. "Thanks, guys. I'd better get in position. Who's next?"  
  
Chuckles recited the order from memory. "Deb, Jacques, me, Spikey, Gurgle, and Bubbles, respectively."  
  
Peach laughed and started off around the volcano. As she left, she could just make out a distinctively irritated voice.  
  
"Spikey?"  
  
* * * * *  
  
Gill floated off the far edge of the volcano. He had just initiated Deb into the group, and she was immediately promoted, an occurrence which seemed to be happening a lot. The humbug was now off with Peach, learning the ways of the ceremony.  
  
It wasn't that hard; all she had to do was tap passerby with a leaf.  
  
Meanwhile, Gill was waiting for Jacques, who would soon be in control of Mount Wannahockaloogie's bubble dial. At least, he was pretty sure Jacques was next; Chuckles had sped through the order only once before he swam off to wait his turn, and Gill hadn't really been paying attention.  
  
Gill's suspicions were confirmed when the cleaner shrimp popped up over the rim.  
  
"You know what to do?"  
  
"Oui." Jacques confirmed.  
  
"Go for it." Gill backed up, looking away for a split second to see where he was going, and when he looked back, Jacques was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Gill waited for a moment, then frowned. He scanned the bubbles before he realized what must have happened. He searched the bubbles once more, this time focusing his attention on the waterline.  
  
Sure enough, Jacques had been swept away by the quick-moving bubbles, and was now weaving his way through the column as fast as he possibly could. He looked a little overwhelmed, but he was steadily advancing, so Gill didn't offer any help.  
  
Jacques didn't need it. It took him a minute or two, but he managed to pull himself clear of the bubbles. The cleaner shrimp swam down to stand on the volcano's peak and puffed up, looking very pleased with himself.  
  
Gill nodded at Jacques; he'd done well, considering the task had been meant for larger fish. "Congratulations, Jacques. You are now an official member of the Tank Gang, and you are now in charge of the Ring of Fire. Peach will brief you on what to do next."  
  
Jacques snapped off a quick salute and responded with a "Yes, monsieur Gill."  
  
"And if. . ." Gill broke off to scowl at the smirking shrimp. "Cut it out. And if Peach doesn't know, go bug Chuckles about it. Better yet, go bug him anyway. Peach doesn't need to get involved."  
  
"Oui." With that, Jacques turned and headed back around the volcano, leaving Gill to await the next victim.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Seven down, one to go. Since Jacques, things had gone rather uneventfully. Nobody had had any difficulty in crossing the Ring of Fire. Gill hadn't expected Bubbles to have any difficulty, either.  
  
At least, not with the test. Getting him to complete the test, however. . .  
  
"Bubbles, just get over here so I can say you finished this and leave. The bubbles will still be there when you get back," Gill tried to reason. Truthfully, he had no clue if the tang could even hear him over his own "Bubbles! Bubblesbubblesbubbleslotsabubblesmybubblesbubbles! All! My! Bubbles!", but he tried anyway.  
  
Gill sighed. He was stuck doing this until Bubbles left the Ring of Fire, and that wasn't gonna happen anytime soon. The ceremony may not call for it, but desperate times call for desperate measures.  
  
The Idol turned his back on Bubbles and swam down to the tank floor. He reached Bubbles' beloved treasure chest right before it opened. Using his good fin, he held it down, trapping the bubbles inside and disrupting the pattern.  
  
"Alright, Jacques! Turn it off!"  
  
Nothing happened for a few moments, then Jacques apparently got the message via Bloat who got it via Gurgle. The bubble-stream faded into nothingness, leaving a very dismayed Bubbles floating where it used to be. He darted around frantically, as if the bubbles might be hiding from him, then gave a defeated and exhausted sigh.  
  
Meanwhile, Gill had been collecting bubbles in the treasure chest. With a shout of "Turn it back on!", Gill triumphantly let go of the treasure chest, releasing a thin stream of air bubbles from it.  
  
Bubbles abandoned Wannahockaloogie's silent summit to race after the escaping orbs. He was almost to the chest when the volcano erupted behind him once again. The look on his face was priceless; now he had TWO bubble- streams to chase! He went into a 180-degree direction change, skidding to a stop in the process, and giving Gill just enough time to slide between Bubbles and the bubbles.  
  
Bubbles darted left and right, trying to get past Gill as the Idol ran through his speech. "Congratulations, Bubbles," Gill raced to the left to head the tang off, "you are now," back to the right, "an official member," up, "of the Tank Gang. We're done, I give up, go."  
  
With Gill out of the way, nothing was going to keep Bubbles from his precious treasures. The tang shot towards them with a single, drawn-out "Bubbles!"  
  
Gill reached the other fish just in time to hear Chuckles say, "That's why Bubbles was last."  
  
Bloat nodded and took off his hat. "Good idea. So, we're done?"  
  
"We had better be," Gill muttered.  
  
Chuckles ignored him. "Yep."  
  
"Well, that was interesting. What now?" Gurgle asked.  
  
The Gang was quiet for a moment as they watched Jacques turn off the volcano, then turn it back on as Bubbles started to lose interest.  
  
Bloat broke the silence. "Well, this is kind of amusing."  
  
The blowfish exchanged a glance with Gurgle, and both gave a conspiratorial smile. As one, they swam off towards the treasure chest.  
  
Eyes narrowing, the conscience of the group took off after them, calling, "No, don't tease Bubbles! The volcano's enough!" Deb followed her starfish friend, both protesting on Bubbles' behalf.  
  
Chuckles cast a furtive glance Gill's way. "That was fun."  
  
"Maybe," came the noncommittal reply.  
  
"Admit it."  
  
"No."  
  
Chuckles laughed. He knew Gill well enough to translate the Idol's gruff remarks. They watched Jacques, Bloat, and Gurgle play Taunt the Tang for a few minutes before Chuckles spoke again.  
  
"So, fearless leader, when can we expect the next installment of the escape plan?"  
  
"Soon."  
  
Something in the Idol's reply made Chuckles turn to look at his larger friend. Gill looked thoughtful and contemplative, but within seconds, a confident and knowing grin took over. "Very soon." 


	15. Operation Airborne

I just want to thank everybody who has reviewed. I probably would've given up on posting this a long time ago if it wasn't for all of you, so thank you so very, very much! As it is, this is the longest fanfic I've ever written, and I'm determined see it through to the end. Thanks again!  
  
Alrighty. Chapter 15, up and running. Enjoy!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Gill was waiting.  
  
This, in particular, was nothing new. He always seemed to be waiting. Waiting for his chance of escape, waiting to see if Jopas, Shade, and Pyram had also made it to freedom, waiting for his chance at completing a sentence without a tankmate trying to get a word in.  
  
Now he was waiting for a certain winged piscivore.  
  
Gill would never admit it, but his next plan worried even him. Its success depended entirely on trusting a fish-eating pelican.  
  
And this was gonna take a lot of trust.  
  
Gill gave an agitated sigh. Nigel hadn't dropped by in a while, and he couldn't be sure when the next visit would be, so he abandoned his post by the window and joined the newly-formed Tank Gang in their observation of Doctor Sherman's latest victim.  
  
Doctor Sherman was halfway through his drilling procedure, complete with audience and expert commentary provided by the various aquarium fish, when Nigel managed to land next to their tank with an inconspicuous flutter of wings and a scramble for a foothold on the slick counter.  
  
The Gang gave a hurried greeting to the newly arrived bird before turning back to the dentist's performance, with the exceptions of Peach, who quickly filled him in on what had happened so far, and Gill, who wanted to discuss his idea with Nigel.  
  
"Nigel?" No answer. "Nigel?"  
  
Gill received a distracted "Hmm?" for his effort.  
  
"You mind answering a couple of questions for me?"  
  
"Ask away," Nigel replied, completely absorbed in the drilling.  
  
"How many fish can you carry in that beak of yours?"  
  
That got the pelican's attention. He regarded Gill with a startled expression and remarked, "You sure 'ave a morbid curiosity, mate."  
  
Gill shrugged that off. "I have to know."  
  
Nigel looked a little hesitant in answering, but he obliged anyway. "Well, most I've ever caught at once was four. . ."  
  
The Idol closed his eyes, trying not to think about the fate of those four fish as he tried another question. "How about us? Could you hold all of us?"  
  
"You?" Nigel asked, appalled. "Blimey, Gill! You don't think I'm gonna come after you, do ya?"  
  
Gill's grim smile did nothing to reassure the startled and stricken pelican. "Not any more, I don't. No, I wanted to ask if you would do that for me."  
  
For the first time since Gill first met him, Nigel was speechless. He cast a quick glance at Dr. Sherman and sat down, contemplating his next few words. "You know, Gill, I know you're not happy 'bout being in that tank, but. . ."  
  
It took a few seconds for Gill to see where his avian friend was coming from, but once he did he raced to correct him, "No! No, no. That's not what I'm sayin'!" Nigel looked visibly relieved as Gill went on, "Here the plan. We need you to carry us out of this tank and to the harbor. Once we're in the harbor, we can take it from there. We just need you to get us there."  
  
"Well, I can try. It might take two trips; I'm not sure I can carry all of you at once. And if the doctor sees me, I can't guarantee I'll get any of you out."  
  
"Then we'll be careful. Trust me. I know this'll work."  
  
As Nigel got up to leave, Gill thought he heard the pelican mutter something to the effect of "Well, that makes one of us", but he couldn't be sure as Nigel cheerfully said his farewells and dropped out of sight.  
  
Gill figured he just imagined it. After all, who couldn't see that this plan was gonna work?  
  
* * * * *  
  
The first night Gill had set for escape fell through; it stormed that night. Nigel didn't think it was wise to make two trips out to the choppy, storm-tossed waves. He didn't even think it was wise to leave the roof where he was huddled with his flock against the wind. He didn't like leaving the Tank Gang to wait for him when he wouldn't be showing up, but they'd understand.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The following day, Nigel waited until Dr. Sherman left the office, then flew up to take his place on the windowsill. As expected, he found a very irritable Moorish Idol waiting for him. He acknowledged Nigel with a grunt as he made his way over, and shrugged off Nigel's apologies and explanations.  
  
"Forget it. It wouldn't have done you any good to come anyway; Boss said something about a surprise and locked the window before he left."  
  
Nigel nodded and waited a few seconds. When it became apparent that Gill wasn't in a talkative mood, he tried again. "So, you ready to try this?"  
  
Gill brightened a little, just a little, as he gave an affirmative nod and went to round up the others. Nigel watched him go, then glanced over at Peach, who was hanging nearby. "What's eatin' him?"  
  
Peach twisted around to make sure the fish in question was out of hearing range before she gave her explanation to Nigel. "I think he's having second thoughts about this."  
  
Nigel frowned. "What? Why would he? I've been thinkin' 'bout this; it might actually work."  
  
Peach bit her lip before she continued, "I don't think it's that. It's just, well, Gill's from the ocean, and you, you're a pelican," she finished lamely.  
  
Nigel's frown darkened. "Ah. So it's back to that, eh?"  
  
Peach didn't have a chance to respond, as Gill chose that moment to show up with Bubbles and Bloat.  
  
Gill was more enthusiastic now; he was going home! He'd show the Tank Gang the reefs where he grew up, and he'd wait for Jopas, Shade, and Pyram, if they weren't there already.  
  
It had been decided that Gill, Bloat and Bubbles would go first, since they were the biggest and it was Gill's idea in the first place. Nigel wouldn't have as much trouble carrying the others on the second trip.  
  
"Alright, Gang, let's do this!"  
  
As Nigel hopped up onto the tank and found his balance, Gill, Bubbles, and Bloat inched closer together, making it easier for the pelican to target them. Gill glanced around to see if they were ready. Bubbles was zipping around excitedly, thrilled by the idea of flying through the air, and Bloat appeared unfazed by what was happening, which was par for the course.  
  
They were ready, but Gill waited just one moment more before he gave Nigel the cue. The Idol would rather go another round with the drill before he ever admitted it to anybody, but he wasn't looking forward to this, even though it seemed like a plan that was going to work.  
  
Gill shelved his own misgivings and raised his good fin, giving Nigel the cue he had been waiting for. The deadly bill descended through the water and opened, drawing the three fish and a good portion of the tank water inside.  
  
"Hey, Gill."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Maybe you aren't as crazy as I thought you were."  
  
Gill shot Bloat an amused glare before the beak snapped shut, throwing them in complete darkness. It was ironic, though; Gill had been thinking just the opposite. Trusting a pelican, what was he thinking?  
  
Nigel had just closed his beak when the front door swung open, an action accompanied by a cheerful, "Forgot my. . .". Nigel snapped his head up and winced. The doctor was back. He could hear Peach and Deb shouting advice, but he tuned them out and tried to turn, forgetting for an instant that he was still perched unsteadily on top of the tank.  
  
Doctor Sherman gave a shout as Nigel clumsily toppled off of the tank and raced to intercept him. Nigel scrambled to his feet, ignoring the yelps from the fish being tossed around in his beak, and managed to reach the window just as the dentist slammed it shut.  
  
Doctor Sherman realized that he made a mistake as Nigel turned away from the window and crashed through the operating room to try the front door, which was shut tight.  
  
Gill, on the other hand, was getting sick of being tossed around and banging into his two companions, both of which had spikes.  
  
Gill reached out to steady himself against the ouch's interior wall and shouted, "What are you doing, Nigel?!"  
  
Nigel heard him, but couldn't answer; he was too busy trying to avoid the dentist, who had once again thrown open the window and was trying to catch him. Plus, he had a mouthful of tank water and fish. It was the latter fact the allowed Doctor Sherman to catch up to the weighted pelican.  
  
Dr. Sherman managed to clamp Nigel's wings to his body, pinning him down as gently as possible, given the circumstances. Nigel didn't have much of a choice; if he wanted to get out, he had to lighten his weight. He despised disappointing his friends, but he opened his beak and let the water spill out. As expected, Dr. Sherman leapt to the aid of his fish, and Nigel took off out of the open window.  
  
Gill could only watch as Nigel flew off, leaving him, Bloat, and Bubbles stranded on the office floor. He was getting used to this, and Bloat calmed when he saw the dentist coming, but Bubbles was thrashing frantically around.  
  
It took a few seconds for the dentist to catch them, but all three escapees were soon returned to their glass prison. Gill immediately bypassed the others without a word and disappeared into the plastic skull, ill-tempered, humiliated, and vastly disappointed.  
  
Bubbles cast a confused look at Bloat, who only shrugged in response.  
  
"Should we go after him?" Gurgle questioned, ""Cause, you know, it would've worked had the doctor not shown up. . . maybe he just needs to know that. . ."  
  
Peach shook her head and quietly responded with a "He already knows."  
  
Chuckles shook his head and glanced over at Gurgle. "You want to go after him when he's like this? Leave him; he needs to cool down."  
  
Deb sniffled and turned to follow the others. "Poor Gill. Maybe we can try it again later." Her reflection caught her eye, and, to her, it was Flo who said, "Yeah, that might work." Deb glanced over at the silent skull and turned back to Flo as she confided, "He'll come up with a working plan. Eventually."  
  
Thus reassured, she zipped off to catch up with her friends.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A certain, fishy muse with stripes is not being very nice right now; he doesn't seem to want to help me on the next installment, so it may take a while. I just don't want to get it wrong.  
  
So bear with me on the next chapter; I'm sure many of you have guessed what's coming up. This being the case, the rating is probably going to go up a notch when I next post. I'm not a grisly-type writer, so PG should be fine. Just a fair warning. 


	16. Loss

Sorry about the wait, everyone. This chapter just did not want to work out, and I'll probably be tweaking it from time to time, but here it is. . . a long chapter for the long wait!  
  
By the way, this fic is now PG for character death. No other reason.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Gill sulked for a few days, but eventually his drive to get out drew him back into the everyday humdrum of tank life. Nigel had dropped by once to apologize, an apology the Gang readily accepted, and explained that he wouldn't be stopping by for a few days. Gill supposed that it was a wise choice, but it meant that a second attempt wasn't going to happen for a while.  
  
Instead, Gill occupied himself with the usual, coming up with plans and bantering with his friends, having completely forgotten the dentist's upcoming surprise.  
  
That day came up as a normal day, with only the usual scheduled cleanings and extractions to watch. Gill had been listening to Chuckles and Gurgle arguing about one procedure or another, and was just about ready to voice his own opinion ("Who cares?") when the office door flew open, released a sugar-fueled, pint-sized maniac into the waiting room. A frazzled looking woman stepped up to the receptionist's desk as the little girl raced up to the tank like a shark on a blood trail.  
  
As one, the fish turned and groaned as the kid approached. They'd been through this with kids before.  
  
"Not again," Bloat muttered. Like Peach, he was a common target for unwanted attention; kids always wanted to see a blowfish blow up.  
  
Gill grimaced and tried to ignore their visitor's laughs as she tapped in the tank. Instead, he looked around, trying to take stock of his surroundings. Peach was stuck to the far side of the volcano, and Jacques had managed to lock himself in his favorite hideaway: a plastic replica of a deep-sea diver's helmet. They seemed to have the right idea; the little girl hadn't seen them yet. Gill turned back to the more mobile Gang members and shouted over the disturbance. "Just leave her, everybody. She won't be here long."  
  
Sure enough, after the longest minute in history, Dr. Sherman called her over with a surprising. "Darla, sweetie, how's my favorite niece today? Haven't seen you in a while."  
  
"They're related?" Gurgle asked incredulously.  
  
Bloat frowned. "I don't see the resemblance."  
  
The blowfish had a point, Gill thought as he watched Darla leap into the chair and proceed to fidget, bounce, and chatter as her uncle calmly and meticulously set out the tools and answered her questions. Gill scowled as he watched, unable to shake the sudden, uneasy feeling he had. He shook his head and took off towards his skull, feeling foolish for letting this one hyperactive kid get to him. Instead of needlessly worrying, he decided to follow his own advice and camp out in the skull until she was gone; with any luck they would avoid another round of tapping and shouting. Maybe she was here for an extraction; that would get her mind off of fish. Gill gave a malevolent little smile at that thought as he slipped into the shadows of the skull.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Gill had barely gotten settled in when he heard Deb and Gurgle shouting and felt several strange currents drift in through the open eye socket. His first thought was of an argument, but that didn't seem right; neither of the two fish were the type to get drawn into a shouting match. Not with each other, at least. A little confused, Gill backed out of the skull as fast as he could and stopped. At first glance, nothing seemed wrong, but as Gill approached the assembled Gang, he could see what had happened.  
  
Chuckles was enclosed inside a plastic baggie resting next to the tank, and he was obviously not happy about it. He was ramming the sides of the bag and racing back and forth, which was just about the only thing he could do, given the circumstances.  
  
"What do we do?" Deb wailed.  
  
"I dunno. Ask Gill, he's the one with all the ideas." Bloat replied.  
  
"Give me a minute, I'm thinkin'. . ." Gill absently muttered.  
  
Peach was watching the dentist, who was trying to get Darla settled in. The others were talking and focusing on their goldfish comrade; she was the only one who heard the dentist say, ". . .and if you're a good girl, your uncle's got a present for ya."  
  
Her heart sank as she said, "I don't think we have a minute, Gill."  
  
Her response was a distracted "What?"  
  
Peach pulled away from the wall and repeated herself. "I said, I don't think we have a minute."  
  
Gill looked a little uncertain for a moment, then he seemed to get it. The psycho kid was gonna get Chuckles! The Idol made a snap decision.  
  
"Chuckles!"  
  
The goldfish stopped his frantic pacing for a second. "Yeah?"  
  
"You gotta move the bag towards the window, then around the corner of the tank. Got it?"  
  
"How do I move the bag?" Chuckles queried.  
  
"Ram it!"  
  
Chuckles practically leaped into action at Gill's order. The Tank Gang could only watch and shout encouragement as he struggled with his task. Gill hadn't felt so useless since he was taken from his own friends several months ago.  
  
His plan was very simple. Too simple. Get Chuckles around the corner and hope the potted plant would hide him from the searching dentist. Of course, they could make sure Dr. Sherman would never find Chuckles, but Gill didn't think the goldfish would appreciate rolling out the window and into the unknown.  
  
Chuckles managed to bring his bag to rest, nestled between the plant and the tank. Gill eyed his exhausted, panting friend, trying not to let his worry show through as he gave more orders.  
  
"Bloat, over here. Peach, keep an eye out. Let us know if the dentist comes over. Everyone else, scatter. Act like you know nothing about this."  
  
He received a chorus of "Yes, Gill", "Yes, sir", and one "Oui, monsieur". Gill took the time to issue one more "order".  
  
"Jacques, knock it off."  
  
There was some scattered, tense laughter as they all set about their various tasks. Even Chuckles managed a small smile, though he still seemed to be panting from his trip.  
  
Gill frowned. "Calm down. You're using all your oxygen."  
  
Chuckles nodded and concentrated on slowing down his breathing. "Hey, Gill?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Hope this is better than your sling-shot plan."  
  
Gill lightly back-finned the glass with his good fin. Chuckles smiled again; had he been in the tank, he would have been the recipient of that friendly slap.  
  
"I don't see you coming up with any ideas."  
  
"Nope. I follow you, O fearless one."  
  
Gill rolled his eyes and turned to Bloat, leaving Chuckle to focus on slowing his breathing again. Gill's confidence and good-natured responses were doing the trick; the goldfish felt a little better about his unfortunate situation.  
  
Meanwhile, Gill was mapping out the rest of his impromptu plan to Bloat.  
  
"Okay, we gotta keep the dentist away from this side of the tank. A distraction. So. . .we're gonna stage a fight," Gill explained.  
  
Bloat nodded his acceptance. "You and me?"  
  
"You and me," the Idol confirmed.  
  
"Who wins?"  
  
"Who cares? Point is, Doc'll try to get us to stop. Maybe he'll forget about looking for Chuckles."  
  
"That's kind of a long shot."  
  
Gill shrugged. "It's all we have. You with me?"  
  
Bloat was already inflating and deflating ever so slightly in anticipation, a big grin spread across his features. "Where to?"  
  
Gill returned the grin with one of his own; whether he intended it to or not, his scars and fin suddenly lent a dangerous quality to the simple action. "Volcano."  
  
As Gill swam off towards the chosen "battlegrounds", Bloat found himself very glad that the upcoming fight would be an act; the blowfish was no slouch at defending himself, but he had a feeling that Gill would be a dangerous fish to face in a real fight.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Gill and Bloat were floating in a face-off above Mount Wannahockaloogie, in plain sight of the dentist, who was still intent on his bouncing niece. Neither fish was in a battle-stance; they were waiting for their starfish sentry to give the cue. Deb had occupied herself by chatting with Flo near the back wall, Gurgle and Jacques had initiated an animated discussion on the finer points of tank maintenance, and Bubbles was alternating between chasing the bubbles from the treasure chest and going over to reassure Chuckles, who had settled in the corner of the bag furthest from the dentist. Truth be told, Chuckles was doing more reassuring than Bubbles was, but the tang was trying.  
  
Gill was still running ideas through in his head, but none seemed to be the answer to their problem. He scowled in irritation; if he couldn't come up with a plan, Chuckles would be taken away to live with Darla, who would no doubt forget that fish need food and clean water.  
  
Bloat frowned. "Problem?"  
  
Startled, Gill broke out of his thoughts, belatedly realizing that Bloat probably thought he'd scowled at him. "Not with you."  
  
Gill didn't have the chance to explain further, as Peach chose that moment to announce, "He's coming, get ready!"  
  
Bloat didn't even bother to respond. He immediately inflated, not so much as to go completely spherical, but enough to make his spikes stand on end.  
  
Gill went into his own battle-stance. Twisting broadside towards his opponent, he spread his fins and tail out as far as they would go, keeping his left side closest to Bloat. The two "combatants" circled, fins vibrating in an attempt to look bigger.  
  
They had agreed that it would be best if it looked like Gill had initiated the fight; a cornered blowfish could endanger the whole tank with the toxins it can release. The doctor, being a fish collector, would surely know this and would do his best to break up the fight before Bloat managed to take out every fish in the tank. Bloat wouldn't do it, but the dentist didn't know that.  
  
Gill hesitated in his circling for a split-second, then snapped his fins closer to his sides and charged. Bloat ducked out of the way, but Gill still veered away from those spines as he passes; it wouldn't do to get scratched by one of those. The Idol spun around and resumed the circling. Had this been a real fight, he would have broken it off after that first charge; it isn't worth the effort to face off against a puffer. Though he would never admit that to Bloat.  
  
By now, Dr. Sherman had noticed the fight, and was trying to decide between interfering and looking for his niece's fish, which seemed to have mysteriously vanished.  
  
Gill cast a quick glance at the dentist, noting his indecision. The Idol charged again, determined to give his captor a reason to interfere.  
  
Bloat patiently waited for his chance to dodge, but Gill gave no hint at which way to go. Bloat waited until the last possible second, when it was obvious that the Idol would not veer away, then he instinctively fell back on his most efficient defense: blowing up.  
  
Gill had been expecting it, counting on it, but it somehow managed to take him by surprise. He tried to pass by, but he had underestimated his tankmate's size and overestimated his own diminished maneuverability.  
  
In short, he managed to ram right into Bloat.  
  
Gill would have been in trouble had Bloat not seen the hit coming. Instead of staying rigid as the Idol struck, which would have jabbed the fish through with at least two toxic spines, he deflated, cushioning the impact for both of them and flattening the spikes.  
  
Gill shook his head, a little dazed and very irritated with his inability to stop. He quickly gave himself a once-over, and, after determining that he hadn't been stabbed, turned back to the equally disoriented puffer, who gave his customary grin and said, "You sure you don't have a problem with me?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure."  
  
"Another miscalculation, then, eh?"  
  
"Yep, simple miscalculation," Gill replied as he reassumed his fighting stance. Bloat took the hint and puffed up again, going completely spherical.  
  
However, they wouldn't have to go another round. Dr. Sherman was convinced that the fight was real and had grabbed the fish net. Using the handle end, he managed to push the stubborn Idol away from Bloat, thus ending the "fight".  
  
Gill shelved his indignation at being pushed across the tank by a fish net and watched the dentist. Dr. Sherman dried off the net and headed back over to Darla. As his fish watched, he helped Darla out of the chair and into the waiting room.  
  
Gill was elated. It worked! He finally pulled off a plan that worked! As Dr. Sherman chatted with the frazzled-looking woman, presumably Darla's mother, Gill raced over to Chuckles, who was still huddled in the corner of his bag.  
  
He didn't look too good.  
  
Gill frowned. "You alright, goldy?"  
  
Chuckles perked up at his friend's voice. "Yeah, I'm fine. Is she really leaving?"  
  
"Yep," Gill proudly stated. "Dentist forgot all about you."  
  
"Well, I hope he doesn't forget for too long. Water's getting pretty stale in here."  
  
"You'll be fine for a while, though, right?"  
  
Chuckles nodded. "Oh, yeah. I could probably make it back to where I was and be fine, but I don't wanna take the risk, you know?"  
  
"Yeah," Gill cut his response short, as Gurgle was frantically waving him over. "I'll be right back."  
  
"Alright," Chuckles sank back towards to bottom of his bag. "Oh, Gill? Thanks. You know, for distracting Doc."  
  
Gill smiled and shrugged. "No problem," he replied as he swam back over to Gurgle.  
  
"What's wrong?" Gill asked as he reached the gamma.  
  
Gurgle pointed over to the assembled group. Doc was still talking to Darla's mother, but now the little girl was bounding and tugging at his sleeve. "I think she remembered her present."  
  
Not now! "She couldn't wait until she left?"  
  
Darla finally succeeded in gaining her uncle's attention. Gurgle's suspicions were confirmed as the menace sweetly asked, "Was I a good girl?"  
  
"No, Boss. Say 'no'," Gill muttered.  
  
Despite the fact that he'd had to wrestle his niece into the chair and put up with her wriggling, bouncing, and talking, Doctor Sherman said, "Yep!"  
  
For a moment, Gill thought he was going to leave it at that, but the doctor continued, "Oh! That reminds me!"  
  
Gill raced back over to Chuckles, vaguely aware that Gurgle had followed, and shouted "Stay down!" If he had one lucky scale on his body, Dr. Sherman wouldn't find Chuckles, and he'd give Darla a dentistry pencil instead.  
  
But, as evidenced by his numerous plans and several attempts at escape, Gill apparently didn't have one scale that could be called 'lucky'. Instead, as Gill helplessly watched, Dr. Sherman found Chuckles, after a bit of a search, and handed the goldfish off to Darla.  
  
As Dr. Sherman and Darla's mother got back to catching up on recent events, Darla grew tired of simply watching her floating fish and started to swing the bag, accidentally and recklessly banging it on various objects; tables, chairs, and her mother's knee were all frequent targets as she danced around. Chuckles was doing his best to keep from being thrown into the walls, but he wasn't having much success.  
  
Gill wasn't the only one watching. Deb was huddled in the corner of the tank, crying to Flo, and Bloat, Peach, and Jacques were shouting encouragement to Chuckles. Gurgle and Bubbles were missing; Gurgle had taken the emotional tang away from the action.  
  
Gill wasn't aware of any of this. He was floating, fins flared, adrenaline rushing. Had she been a fish, he would have willingly challenged the girl to a fight for what she was doing to his friend and tankmate, but he couldn't. No, he was trapped in a tank, a laughable representation of the endless reaches of the sea. Trapped while his friend was getting the life beaten out of him right in front of his eyes.  
  
Gill slowly paced, seething, horrified, and at a loss for what he could do. Chuckles was shouting, asking for help, an idea, anything, and Gill wasn't able to provide it. The Idol turned away from the scene in the waiting room, taking stock of everything he had at his disposal.  
  
His gaze locked on the volcano. Dare he try it again? It would be so easy to launch himself over there, to come to the rescue. Gill absently shook his head, ordering himself to think rationally. Sure, he could fly on over there, but what would that accomplish? With his luck, he'd get over there, fall to the floor, and get stepped on by the kid.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by his own name. Chuckles had called for him. Felling guilty for having turned his back to him, Gill spun around and opened his mouth to answer.  
  
His heart stopped. Darla had dropped Chuckles, who had shouted as he fell. The bag hit the ground with an impact so great that Chuckles had crashed into the solid floor as well, instead of being cushioned by the water. Darla's mother had finally grown tired of her child's little game and picked up the bag, thereby ending the brutal torture.  
  
Chuckles sank to the bottom of the bag, and he wasn't saying anything. No jokes, no reassurances, nothing.  
  
Gill spoke for the first time since this whole ordeal had started. "Chuckles, you all right?"  
  
Chuckles didn't even look his way.  
  
"Hey, goldy, you gotta answer me, okay? Stay awake."  
  
Still no response. Time to change tactics.  
  
"Chuckles, answer me!" Gill snapped.  
  
The Idol's harsh tone managed to jar the dazed goldfish. Chuckles nodded, winced at that action, and rose an inch of the baggie floor, still gasping. Gill knew the symptoms of shock, and could recognize them in his friend; he'd seen it in the ocean when a fish managed to escape a larger predator. He also knew that shock could kill. It didn't help that the goldfish was running low on oxygen.  
  
Gill took a deep, shuddering breath before he continued. It wasn't looking good for his friend; if shock didn't claim him, the kid certainly would.  
  
Gill did the only thing he could think to do. Talk. "Chuckles, slow your breathing. Deep and slow, that's it. You're gonna be fine, goldy, just take it easy."  
  
Gill kept it up, speaking in relative silence about anything and everything he could think of and receiving no reply. The others had long since fallen silent, though whether it was because they didn't know what to say or because they thought Gill knew what to do was up for debate.  
  
He hoped it was the former, because it certainly wasn't the latter.  
  
He kept it up, even as the doctor said his farewells and ushered Darla and her mother out the door, carrying his tankmate away. He stopped talking only when the door clicked shut behind them.  
  
Gill felt like he'd swallowed a lump of fire coral. He knew he'd never see Chuckles again, and he wasn't too optimistic about the goldfish's odds of surviving the night, but he could always hope.  
  
That's all a fish needs, after all. Clean water, ample food, and a good, steady supply of hope.  
  
Now, it was all that Gill had to go on.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Wow, that was long.  
  
Well, I think that worked out well. I'll explain some of Gill's chosen actions later on, so it'll all make sense. Eventually. =D  
  
And yes, as far as my research is concerned, puffers will release toxins into the water if they feel sufficiently threatened. Interesting bit of trivia, I thought. And, believe it or not, I had a lot of difficulty when it came to researching the Moorish Idol's method of fighting. I could find nothing about it on-line, and Gill was being very tight-lipped about the subject when I asked.  
  
Then again, he helped me with the first half of the chapter, then said something about how he had better things to do and left me to finish it on my own, so I don't know what I expected from him. By the way, most of Gill's fighting behaviors were based on Siamese Fighting Fish (Betas), in case anybody was interested.  
  
Anyways, I'm probably not going to change this too much, if at all, but I am curious: how would you guys have done it differently, keeping in mind the low rating (PG)? 


	17. Fading Hopes

Ugh. Sorry about the wait, everybody. Life ganged up on me by means of evil classes, work, and a story that just keeps getting harder to get right. Plus, there's midterms this week. I'm still not 100 percent happy with the way this chapter turned out, but I'll let you guys be the judge.  
  
And as for the goldfish thing, I'm stumped by that as well. It doesn't make sense for Chuckles to be a goldfish, but he just looks too much like one, and I'll admit it: I didn't do too much research on saltwater fish that look like goldfish =D  
  
And yes, I do have fish. My tank's current residents are a little black-and- white marbled angelfish, two orangish tetra-like fish that I have yet to figure out the species of, and two bluish tetra-like fish of the same description. Also, I have a tiny little water snail. They're all so cute!  
  
Anyways, enjoy the story!  
  
~~~~~  
  
Not one fish slept that night. Instead, they huddled together on the floor of the tank, quietly talking. Someone had brought Bubbles and Gurgle up to date. Gill didn't know who, but someone had. They were just as solemn as everybody else.  
  
They would have been even more miserable, but Deb had pointed out the one last, lingering hope they still had for their goldfish friend. Chuckles wasn't dead when he left. For all they knew, Darla's mother collected fish like Dr. Sherman, and would know what to do with Chuckles. He could be alive and well, even as they floated there, mourning his loss.  
  
Gill had pounced on the thought, nodding and supporting the theory to brighten up the others, but in his heart, he knew it was not so. Chuckles had been far too hone when he was carried out the door. One had only to look at the goldfish to see that. He'd responded to nothing; not verbal stimuli, as Gill had received no reply for any of his questions or statements, and not physical stimuli, as he'd been jostled a bit as Darla's mother moved, but made no effort to stabilize himself.  
  
It was all that Gill could do to stay there with the rest of the Gang, to look each one in the eye and try to ease the grief he saw there. Grief that was partially his doing. His failure. Gill broke eye contact with the others and stared out through the window at the beautiful new dawn. If only he had managed to hide Chuckles right the first time; if only he had shouted an idea, advice, anything while he was being shaken. But he hadn't.  
  
Gill sighed and started to push himself off the graveled floor, but a shake of the head from Peach stopped him. He dropped unceremoniously back to the floor and just stared at the pebbles in front of him, refusing to look at any of the fish around him. He knew why Peach wanted him to stay; he was the co-leader of the Tank Gang, and the Gang looked to him for support and confidence. As far as Gill was concerned, this was why he initially refused the position in the first place. How was he to be the pillar of support when his own base was crumbling beneath him? Besides, was the Tank Gang he was leader of still a Tank Gang when one of its members, and its founding member at that, was gone forever? Peach was better at puzzling out all of this emotional stuff; Gill would leave it to her, but she didn't want to deal with it alone.  
  
Not that Gill was of much help. The Idol had a very limited exterior emotional range; it varied from stoic to defensive, with a select few in between.  
  
Gill had barely gotten himself settled in once more when the office door flew open, as it did almost every morning. Startled out of their silent support group gathering, the fish scattered, not wanting to have to deal with curious patients and hyperactive kids today. Within seconds, the tank looked deserted, save for one still starfish resting on the floor.  
  
Gill had taken refuge inside his usual retreat center, which was close enough to the office that he could make out what was being said in the back rooms, albeit faintly. Apparently, the dentist and receptionist had come in at the same time, and were in the midst of a conversation when the Moorish Idol started eavesdropping.  
  
The dentist's chipper voice was first. "I can't believe my car wouldn't start this morning. Had to call Denise over to bum a ride."  
  
"That's too bad," Barbara, the receptionist, replied. Gill tuned her out; he had many things on his mind, and malfunctioning 'cars' were not one of them. "Happened to me last month. Didn't have to work, though, so I just had it fixed. Oh, what did Denise have to say? She came in yesterday, didn't she? With Darla."  
  
At the mention of Darla's name, Gill quickly sat up and paid closer attention, hoping to catch news of Chuckles.  
  
"Yeah, she did. Everything's the same old, same old for the most part. But Darla! Little tyke's getting bigger every day. I can remember when she was just a baby."  
  
Barbara laughed. "We all can. Just a few years ago, after all. Did you give her the fish?"  
  
"Yeah," Dr. Sherman's voice turned thoughtful and quiet; Gill had to strain just to make out his next few words. "I think it was too soon. She banged 'im up pretty bad, and Denise said that he died sometime on the way home. Didn't notice until after she took the picture. Kid's pretty upset."  
  
Barbara gave some kind of sympathetic reply, but Gill truly wasn't listening now. He closed his eyes and slumped against the side of the skull, all energy gone. The Gang's last hope had been dashed; Chuckles was dead. Gill had failed. He'd promised that every one of them would see the ocean, and he had failed. How was he ever going to tell them that Chuckles was really dead?  
  
At that thought, Gill jumped up and glanced out of the hole in the skull, trying to see if any of the others had heard the bad news. A quick scan of the area confirmed his suspicions; no one else knew. He was just about to leave and confide in Peach when a quiet voice stopped him. Deb and Gurgle were nearby, talking, and Gill would have to pass them to reach Peach. They'd know something had happened, and he wasn't ready to break the news to them. Not yet.  
  
Gill retreated back into his skull, trying to figure out what to do. He tried for three painstaking hours to find an easy answer to his problem, but the solution remained as elusive as the plan that would allow them to escape from this wretched tank. He considered not telling them, but that just wouldn't be fair. He also considered feigning ignorance until they figured it out for themselves, but that was no good, either; Peach, at least, would know something was wrong. No, they had to know.  
  
Gill took a deep breath, then slipped quietly out of the skull and swam resolutely past Deb and Gurgle. He hesitated for a moment once he was past them; he'd been dreading the moment that he had to tell Peach what he knew, and he had just thought of a way out, another fish to tell. The Idol took a split second to make up his mind, then set out searching for Bloat, the first friend he had made away from those of his childhood.  
  
He found the blowfish playing with Bubbles; he was releasing a stream of bubbles from the treasure chest at irregular intervals, and Bubbles was half-heartedly chasing them. As Gill watched, Bubbles gave up the game and settled down near the base of a large plastic plant. Bloat let go of the treasure chest's lid and followed the tang, positioning himself so he could talk to Bubbles face to face.  
  
Bloat had just finished saying, "You wouldn't've wanted to be there, Bubbles. Trust me on that one," when he noticed Gill approaching. He acknowledged the Idol with a nod, and gave a slight frown as if to ask what was wrong. Gill nodded back and ignored the unspoken question.  
  
"But I didn't get to say goodbye. . ." Bubbles whispered, obviously distraught.  
  
Bubbles wasn't Gill's firs choice to break the news to. The tang was too excitable; he'd need Peach to help him keep Bubbles somewhat calm. Delaying the moment when he'd have to tell anybody, Gill asked, "You okay, Bubbles?"  
  
He wasn't expecting the matter-of-fact answer he received.  
  
"No. I'm not okay."  
  
Bloat sighed and explained. "He's upset because Gurgle took him away when Chuckles was. . .you know. He apparently promised Chuckles that he'd say goodbye to him when he left, and Chuckles said that he wasn't going anywhere. He even told Bubbles that he'd teach him how to play a new bubble game."  
  
"But Chuckles left, and he didn't get to keep his promise," Gill finished sympathetically. He knew how that felt. Gill took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to begin and contemplating dragging Peach's multi-limbed form over to help him. In the end, he decided to go it alone. "Bubbles, Chuckles knows you didn't break your promise."  
  
Bubbles sniffled as Gill sank down to the pebbles nearby. "How do you know that?"  
  
"Because Chuckles really didn't think he was going anywhere, that's why. That's why he promised you he'd teach you a new game. He wanted to keep his promise, but he couldn't. He wasn't given the chance. Likewise, you wanted to keep your promise, but you couldn't. Gurgle thought it was best you didn't see what was happening, and I agree with him. Therefore, you weren't given the chance. Breaking a promise sorta means you didn't want to keep it, and you really did. So, neither his promise nor your promise was broken," Gill paused, then gave a thoughtful frown. "Does that make sense?"  
  
Bubbles thought about it for a few seconds – Gill fully expected him to say "No" – before he simply replied, "I think so. But if I didn't break it, and I didn't keep it, what happened to it?"  
  
He had Gill there. That was the trouble with improvisation; it was so easy to get stumped. Fortunately, Bloat had an answer.  
  
"It's been delayed. You just have to wait until next time."  
  
"Next time?"  
  
"Sure. If you ever see him again, you can keep your promise."  
  
Inwardly, Gill groaned. Bloat had no idea how hard he had just made it for Gill to break the bad news, but the answer seemed to satisfy Bubbles, though the tang had one more thing to say.  
  
"Don't do that again."  
  
"Do what?" Gill asked, slightly thrown by the shift in topics.  
  
"Take me away. Don't. If you can do it, and Jacques, and Deb, and Peach, and everybody else, I can do it, too. Don't leave me out. No lying, either." Bubbles replied, more serious that Gill had ever seen him.  
  
What could he say to that? "It will never happen again. I promise."  
  
Bubbles turned to Bloat, who answered without hesitation. "You're one of us, Bubbles. I promise, too."  
  
The tang visibly calmed. He was still sad, but calmer. "Did you come to play, Gill?"  
  
Gill cleared his throat and said, "Uh, no. Actually, I needed to tell. . ." Gill stopped himself from saying 'Bloat' just in time. He mentally sighed, remembering the promise he had just agreed to. Bubbles was gonna find out sooner or later. Might as well be now. Gill picked up right where he left off. "Both of you something." He looked from one to the other, making sure he had both of their attentions.  
  
With a sigh, the Idol's expression deflated. "The dentist was talking when he came in this morning. He had been talking to Darla's mother. Chuckles didn't make it."  
  
"No!" Bubbles whimpered. "He had to! He said he'd come back!"  
  
"Bubbles," Bloat started, trying to sound supportive, but failing. He watched as the tang rushed off into the tangle of plastic plants, then turned back to Gill. "I better go after him. Does anybody else know?"  
  
Gill shook his head. "You're the first. I'm gonna go tell the others right now."  
  
Bloat hesitated before he left. "Somehow, I knew he didn't make it. He was just so out of it when he was taken away."  
  
"Yeah, I know." As Bloat left to find Bubbles, a broken-hearted Gill turned away to begin the near-impossible task of notifying the others.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
So, what did you guys think? Be honest, and review! =D 


	18. Listening Ear and Sound Advice

Ugh. I'm so sorry about the wait for this chapter. It started off as a bad case of writer's block, escalated to conflicts with college, and ended with me completely forgetting about it for a few months. Fortunately for the story, I got a review from a reader telling me in no uncertain terms to update. Now. D

Thanks! Here ya go!

This chappie's kinda short, but, hopefully, things'll speed up now.

Randomly placed disclaimer:Still don't own 'em. As if this is a shock to anybody.

* * *

Nigel was feeling pretty good. After the escape fiasco, he'd made a conscious effort to stay away from the dentist's office. It didn't help that Dr. Sherman was locking him out. Recently, he'd been feeling bored; without his frequent office visits, he was restricted to hanging around the harbor and occasionally stealing a snack or two from the local fishermen for fun.

However, he had recently noticed that dear Dr. Sherman had taken to leaving the window open again. Nigel left the opportunity alone for a few days, but he couldn't stay away any longer.

The pelican swooped through the open window to come to a rest next to the fishtank. Nigel gave a great smile as he eagerly awaited his friends' joyous greetings.

"Hmph."

Okay, that wasn't exactly joyous, but it did sound suspiciously like "hi". Nigel stole a glance at the speaker and frowned. "Uh-oh."

"I guess you could say that." Gill grumbled.

"What 'appened, Gill? You look like you've lost your best friend."

Nigel knew he'd struck a nerve when the Idol didn't answer. Gill merely closed his eyes and turned away.

Nigel felt his heart skip a bit. He hadn't meant the comment literally! A thousand intelligent questions flashed through his mind, but all he could get out was, "Gill! Who w. . . I mean, what. . . who!" Gill's silence only made it worse. "Not. . .not Peach. . .or, or Bloat. . . or. . ."

Gill shook his head, cutting Nigel off. "They're fine," he said hoarsely, suddenly sounding very tired. "It was Goldy, Nigel. Chuckles."

Nigel's eyes widened. "Chuckles? But, how? What happened?"

"Doc thought it was a great idea to give his little shark of a niece one of us," Gill bitterly stated. "As if we were just objects! Inanimates, instead of living beings!"

It was obvious that this rant had been building up for a while, and Nigel sympathized entirely. "Yeah, that's the human mentality for you, mate. But is that it? The little brat just took off with Chuckles? 'Cause that's not entirely bad. Could be a lot worse, y'know…"

"It was worse, Nigel." Gill flared his fins in rage at the memory. "We tried to hide him, but Doc found him and gave him to that little monster. She shook him, and banged him, and dropped him. . ." Gill cut himself off; he'd been getting louder with each round of pacing. The last thing he needed was to get the rest of the Gang riled up again.

Gill glanced around to make sure no one else had heard him, then he turned back to Nigel and hissed, "She killed him, Nigel. And the humans, they act like it was nothing more than an unfortunate accident."

"That's just the way they are, Gill. They just don't understand things the way that we do. I'm very sorry about Chuckles. How is everybody handling it?"

"Badly. How else could they react? Deb and Bubbles are in hysterics, and Gurgle is quickly getting there. Bloat's been trying to calm them down ever since they found out. Jacque's shut himself in the helmet and refuses to say a word to anybody, and I think Peach had gone into depression."

Nigel raised an eyebrow as Gill finished his tirade. "Missed one."

"No, I didn't." Gill grumpily replied.

The pelican wasn't going to let Gill's denial deter him. "I meant you, mate."

If possible, Gill's expression darkened even more than it already was. "Don't want to talk about it."

Nigel rolled his eyes. "For some reason, that doesn't surprise me." The pelican looked like he wanted to pursue the matter, but a glance at the receptionist's desk seemed to forestall any further conversation.

Quickly, Nigel returned his attention to the mourning Idol. "Look here, mate. Doc's coming, so I've got to skedaddle. Just promise me this: if you won't talk to me, find someone else to talk to."

"No."

"Think about it then," came the exasperated retort.

"I'll think about thinkin' about it." Gill replied, clearly not meaning a word of it.

"Do that, will ya?" Nigel ruffled his feathers in anticipation of take-off, but before he actually left, he added, "I don't know exactly what happened,but anybody can tell that this is tearing you up. I'm still very sorry for your loss, and I knowyou haven't had much time to deal,but these fish need a leader. They need the old Gill back. So, take my advice, and if you need my help again, just holler."

He was gone before Gill could even begin to protest.


	19. If You Lead, I Will Follow

Wow. Just, wow. I've heard that stories tend to have minds of their own when being written, but I've usually managed to keep them close to what I've planned.

This is absolutely _nothing_ like what I had planned for this chapter. I don't really know what I did have planned for this chapter (I'd backed myself into a slight corner), but it definitely wasn't this. Not even close. But I like it. D

I do know that I was going for a lighter tone, but that didn't work. It'll come soon though, I promise!

I hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun writing it. It flops perspectives a bit, but it should be pretty easy to know who we're following.

Disclaimer time: I own nothing. And I mean that almost literally. I do not own Finding Nemo, and there's a phrase in here that I originally heard on an episode of "Angel" that I couldn't resist using. I don't own that, either.

* * *

Gill refused to talk to anybody about "The Darla Incident" for months. Peach did her best to boost morale around the Gang, but the melancholy atmosphere of the tank got to her, as well.

The starfish had wiped clean a smudge of algae on the glass wall, and was quietly reading and re-reading the certificates and posters around the room, carefully avoiding catching sight of the morbid photo of Darla and her unfortunate victim. Why the doctor kept such a picture around, she would never know. The doctor himself was not around (though he was due to come in to scrub the tank at any minute now); it was Sunday, and the office was currently closed, thus contributing to her growing boredom.

Though she was bored, Peach found herself enjoying the peace and quiet. Since Chuckles' murder, she had rapidly taken on the mantle of tank psychiatrist. Jacques tended to keep to himself, but Bubbles, Deb, and Gurgle needed the most help, and would usually wander over to her whenever they were feeling depressed. Peach would hear them out, and they usually went away feeling much better, but Peach was always left feeling much worse. The only fish she felt comfortable discussing her own worries with was Bloat.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Gill would listen, but conversation with the Idol tended to be one-sided, and, as of late, he appeared to have his mind on something else entirely. At least Bloat would listen, and try to keep the conversation going. The blowfish also had a remarkable talent for making even the most depressed individual smile.

And, while Peach might get a better response talking to one of the plastic plants, she still kept tabs on Gill. Recently, he could always be found sulking in the plastic skull or staring out to sea. Like he was doing now. He denied it whenever she asked, but Peach was fairly certain that Gill was considering escape again.

* * *

Volcano. Didn't work. Pelican. Not so good, either. Plant slingshot. Miserable failure, best not to think about it. So, what was left? How could a fish possibly get from the tank to a drain, or, better yet, the ocean itself?

Gill was at a loss. His ideas had run dry months ago, and quite frankly, he had just given up for a while after Chuckles' death. Nigel's go-get-'em speech had helped a little, but the real motivation came, ironically enough, from the doctor himself.

The Idol had been brooding off in a corner of the tank when he'd heard Dr. Sherman innocently remark to a patient that he'd given Darla fish before. And, as with Chuckles, they had all met an untimely demise. He'd kept hoping she was old enough for a fish, but was proven wrong each year.

That had cinched it. If the dentist had done this before, chances were high that he'd do it again. Gill had eight months to get the Tank Gang to the ocean before another fish was killed.

And he only had one idea left. Maybe two.

The jangling of the door chimes brought the Idol back to reality. Normally the sight of the dentist striding into the office, algae scrubber in one hand, plastic baggies in the other, like a badly-dressed, algae-fighting superhero, was enough to make Gill groan. He certainly heard a series of them from his tankmates (with the exception of Gurgle, who cheered); most of them didn't enjoy the bimonthly "cleaning day" any more than he did. However, he had something he wanted to try, and he couldn't manage it in the tank.

So, for once, Gill didn't put up _too_ much of a fight against being netted, dragged out of the water, and dropped into a little baggie that was promptly tied and placed on the counter. Not that he made it easy (it took three laps around the tank before he let Dr. Sherman get the net anywhere near him), but the others tended to make it a lot worse. It was, after all, tradition. Besides, it was quite amusing to watch an otherwise dignified dentist spend a good twenty minutes trying to find a well-hidden cleaner shrimp, pry a deceptively strong starfish off the glass, and wrestle an inflated blowfish into a plastic baggie, all after chasing a humbug and a tang all over the tank. Gurgle was the only one who ever willingly let himself get caught without a fight. Small price to pay for a clean tank.

Finally, everybody was situated, panting and smiling, on the counter beside Gill, and Dr. Sherman was busily scrubbing the tank clean. It was Gill's best chance for another two months to see what he wanted to see.

Without a word to his tankmates, Gill rammed the side of the baggie, slowly and carefully rolling it over to the open window.

"Uh, Gill? What are you doing?" Bloat cautiously asked.

No answer. No surprise.

With a nervous giggle, Deb tried next. "Gill, hon? You're a _little_ close to that window. Why don't you come back now, okay?"

Gill just nudged his baggie one last time. "I'm just trying to see something," he answered as he tried his best to peer over the window ledge.

"Yeah, Gill? Deb's right. It's just. . . not safe over there." That was Gurgle.

"I'll be fine. I'll be right back." Gill absently replied as he tried to gauge the distance to the ground. He barely even heard Jacques cry out some kind of warning, but he did notice the baggie that had rolled up next to him, its occupant craning to see what it was that Gill was so interested in.

"What are we looking at?" Bubbles asked.

Gill couldn't help but smile at the tang who was trying so hard to do whatever the other Gang members could do, and what some wouldn't do. Bubbles was the only other fish to come over.

"Just trying to see what's down there. What do you think?"

Bubbles was silent for a moment as he contemplated the panoramic view before him. "Long way down."

"Yeah. I was thinkin' the same thing. It's solid ground down there, too. No water."

"Yep."

"Hmm. Well, at least we know," Gill said as he spun around to move the baggie back. "Thanks, Bubbles."

"You're welcome."

Gill would later swear that the next few seconds happened in slow motion, as though they were swimming through jelly, but in all actuality, it happened very fast. He would never know whether it was overeagerness on the part of the tang to contribute to the Gang, or whether he himself bumped Bubbles' baggie with his own, but either way, as Gill headed back to the rest of the group, Bubbles nudged his baggie forward ("To get a better look," he later said), and disappeared over the edge of the windowsill.

"BUBBLES!" Gill heard the others shout it. He even heard himself shout it, though he didn't remember doing so. He raced back to the windowsill, sick with dread and the cold knowledge that Bubbles could not, had not, survived the fall.

"Bubbles! No! No, no. . . no!"

No! It couldn't have happened! Not now, not this way! Bubbles couldn't be dead. . . and yet, as Gill leaned precariously over the precipice, his mind kept replaying Bubbles' fall, and comparing it to the short, fatal distance that Chuckles had fallen. . .

Bubbles was dead.

The fact hit Gill hard, chased every bit of warmth the heated water lent him out of his body. The Gang was mostly quiet now, save for sobbing from Peach and Deb. Everybody else was just stunned silent, having reached the same conclusion that Gill had.

It was never supposed to happen.

Bubbles. . . if Gill was the mind, and Peach the heart of the Tank Gang, Bubbles had been the soul. The innocent child to the others' sibling-like concern.

And he was gone.

* * *

Dr. Sherman quickly gave the last algae spot a quick swipe with the scrubber, completely eliminating it. He took a step back to admire his handiwork, then cast a glance over his prized fish.

He prided himself on his skills as an aquarist. Each fish was important to him, no matter if they had come as purchases, captures, or gifts.

The good dentist frowned as he looked over the baggies again. What was the Moorish Idol doing over by the window? And where. . .where was the Yellow Tang?

"Oh, no. . ." Dr Sherman whispered as he pieced together what had happened. He swept the Idol's baggie away from the window, slammed it shut, deposited the baggie with the others, and raced out the door to find his missing tang.

* * *

Peach was quietly sobbing. She knew she had to be strong, she wanted to reassure the others, but she couldn't. Deb was in hysterics; Gurgle had been floating silently, but was starting to hyperventilate with the shock. Jacques was sitting on the ground, head bowed, withdrawn. Bloat. . . Bloat was in absolute shock. He'd shouted with the others until it was clear there would be no reply, and he hadn't moved since. That confident, everything-will-be-okay look that he was so good at had been replaced with utter confusion. He looked lost.

Gill. . . Peach chanced a glance over at the Idol, and felt every little bit of composure that she had managed to collect shattered by what she saw.

He was shutting down. The curiosity, the confidence, everything that had slowly crept back into his demeanor in the months since Chuckles' death was being stripped away. He blamed himself, that much was plain. He blamed himself, and was giving up.

* * *

It was his fault. Bubbles wouldn't have been near the window if it wasn't for him. His fault. First Chuckles, then Bubbles. . . No. First the ocean, then his friends, then his fin, then Chuckles, then Bubbles. All lost because of wrong decisions, mistakes _he_ had made.

No more. He was done. No more escapes, no more trying, no more leader.

They didn't need this. The others. He looked over at Peach and numbly watched as she started crying even harder as soon as she made eye contact with him.

He wanted to tell them, to tell her, that it wouldn't happen again. No more would die because he had lead them on ridiculous missions, stood by when they needed help. He even opened his mouth to tell them so, but was interrupted by the dentist's return.


	20. Hope Renewed

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a rabbit that insists on chewing everything in sight. I definitely do NOT own Finding Nemo. To those of you who have stuck with this story, I thank you wholeheartedly. Life is just a bit hectic.

* * *

Gill had opened his mouth to say one thing, but something entirely different came out.

"Bubbles?"

Sure enough, Dr. Sherman was holding the tang's baggie. Bubbles himself looked a little shaken, slightly dazed, and very much alive. Also extremely fascinated by the numerous bubbles collecting in the baggie.

"BUBBLES!"

This time, the chorus of voices had traded horror for absolute joy.

Bubbles gave a smile and waved at them enthusiastically, apparently oblivious to the chaos he had caused mere moments before. He had just started to poke the bubbles that had attached themselves to the baggie when the dentist upended him into the newly-cleaned tank.

The Tank Gang watched in joyous confusion as Bubbles quickly and unerringly righted himself and waved again, completely unfazed by his dangerous free-fall.

The dentist gave a lopsided smile as he watched the Tang happily swim around the tank. "Guess you're okay, little guy. Tougher than I thought."

With practiced ease, the man quickly untied each of the remaining baggies and placed its occupant back into the tank, then began collecting his belongings in preparation to leave.

Bubbles, in the meantime, was swamped. Deb had been returned first, and set the standard for the others to follow. As soon as she could, she made a beeline for the tang, crashed into him, and proceeded to hug him tightly as she jabbered her happiness at seeing him alive.

By the time everyone in the tank had taken their turn babbling to Bubbles, Gill had finally managed to find his own voice.

"Bu. . . wha?"

It wasn't exactly dignified, but it succeeded in getting everyone's attention. Gill tried again.

"Bubbles. . . how?"

Bubbles, bless the befuddled tang, merely asked, "How what?"

Gill closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm his nerves before daring to continue. "With all due respect, Bubbles, what happened when you fell?"

A look of understanding dawned over Bubbles' features, and, with a smile, the tang offered the one word that explained everything. . .

"Oh! Boing."

Explained everything to the tang, at least.

"Boing?"

Bubbles nodded exuberantly. "Mm-hmm. I fell, then boing! Then I fell some more, and landed in huge plants, then fell through the plants and landed on the ground. Didn't hurt!"

Gill fought to keep the hope in his heart from rising too quickly. "What caused the boing, Bubbles?"

At that, the tang shrugged, content to simply enjoy being alive, and not driven by the need to explore the mysterious forces that allowed that to happen. "Something's down there. You land on it, but it's not hard. Then boing."

Gill knew he wasn't going to get any more answers from Bubbles right now, so he simply gave the tang one of his rare, genuinely overjoyed smiles, and said, "Welcome back, Bubbles."

As Gill turned to head towards the tank-corner facing the window, he heard an innocent voice say, "But I didn't go anywhere. . ."

* * *

In the four days it took Nigel to finally drop by, Gill had logged a lot of hours staring meditatively out to sea.

To all appearances, anyway.

Inwardly, he was about to implode.

Nigel's webbed feet barely had enough time to connect with the windowsill before the Idol started interrogating him.

"What's down there?" Gill asked.

Nigel frowned in confusion. "What? What's down where? What are you. . .?"

"Down THERE!" Gill replied, rather sharply in Nigel's opinion. The vague pointing with his good fin didn't help any.

Nigel sputtered a bit, the dejectedly flopped down and muttered, "This is what I get for not dropping by for a few days."

Meanwhile, Gill had managed to get in a couple of good, deep breaths. He sounded considerably, albeit forcefully, calmer than he had when Nigel first arrived. He took a few minutes to fill the pelican in on Bubbles' grand adventure, as Nigel listened in mesmerized disbelief.

When Gill finished, Nigel stood and craned his neck out the window, mentally retracing Bubbles' fall. He shook his head. "Gill, you've got to be kiddin' me. That fall should have killed him!"

"I know! Bubbles was vague on the details, so can you tell me why it didn't?"

Nigel took a moment to study the set-up before hazarding to continue. "Momentum."

Gill nodded, not understanding, but accepting the pelican's verdict. "What about it?"

"Well, it's never the fall that kills you, is it? It's the landing. You saw it yourself. Chuckles didn't fall far, compared to Bubbles, but from what you've told me, he fell fast and hard, and the impact came suddenly. But, Bubbles had a completely different situation," Nigel hastened to add as Gill's features began to look pained. "There's an awning down there, Gill, and some bushes."

Gill frowned, and cast a quick glance around. No one there. Good. Turning back to Nigel, he asked, "What's an awning?"

"It's. . . well. . . it's hard to explain, but it's sort of a cloth covering that humans put above doorways so that they can stand under it if it rains."

"How does that help?"

Nigel shrugged. "I dunno, mate, but they flock under 'em whenever it starts to rain. They're humans. Who knows why they do what they do?"

"Good point," Gill conceded. "So Bubbles landed on a piece of cloth. How does that help?"

"He didn't stop suddenly. The cloth slowed his fall. Same goes for the bushes. He wasn't going fast enough to be killed, though I bet it was a bumpy ride."

So, that was it. That was the answer! Gill mused.

"Nigel? Had Bubbles wanted to get to the ocean from where he was, what would he have had to do?"

Startled, Nigel turned his head so sharply that he bashed the tip of his beak against the glass. "Ow! Gill, he would have had to cross two lanes of very fast-moving traffic, and, if he survived that, then he would be able to drop nine meters into the ocean."

Gill was unfazed. "But it's doable."

Nigel couldn't believe what he was hearing. "No, Gill. Let it go. Even if you survived the fall, the traffic alone would kill you."

"There's no other way, Nigel."

"There has to be. This is crazier than all of your other ideas combined!"

"Even the volcano one?"

"We are leagues beyond that! Gill, I know you're desperate to get back, but right now you're in an entirely different ocean that the rest of us here in Sydney!"

When Gill spoke again, it was in a soft voice entirely at odds with the stubborn Idol Nigel was used to. "But that's the problem, Nigel. I'm not in an ocean at all."

With a sigh, Nigel stood and ruffled his feather. As he turned to go, he said, "I'm not going to stop you, Gill. I don't think anything can. But I'd like you to consider this. What happened with Bubbles may very well have been a fluke. The others would follow you anywhere, and next time, the Gang may not be so lucky."

With that, the pelican launched himself into the air, pumping his wings in the awkward flight of his species. As he flew off, he called back over his shoulder, "Just don't do anything rash, Gill!"

Of course I won't, Gill thought in reply. This attempt can't fail!


End file.
